Some claimed that the Crow's Nidum, the Lestrange ancestral home, was as old as Hogwarts itself — a true testament to the power of ancient magic. But to Bellatrix, it was nothing more than a cold, oppressive fortress, a far cry from the elegance of the Black family's estates. The stone walls were lined with portraits of long-dead Lestranges, some muttering in their frames, others lost in silent, eternal slumber. She had learned to tolerate it over the years, but there wasn't a week that went by when she didn't fantasise about setting the whole place ablaze.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps descending the staircase. She turned to see a young man approaching, his dark robes trailing behind him like a shadow.

"You look handsome," Bellatrix said as Atlas Lestrange came to stand beside her. He was nearly a head taller than her now, barely resembling the child she had claimed as her own so many years ago. She was the one to blame for this, of course. Through countless enchantments, potions, and rituals, she had shaped him into the perfection she had always envisioned. "Black really does suit you."

"Thank you," Atlas replied, his voice as quiet as ever. "Do we really have to go? It seems ridiculous to throw a party just because your son got into Hogwarts."

"It's Cissy," Bellatrix said. "She never misses a chance to flaunt."

"Flaunt what?" Atlas scoffed. "That her son isn't a squib? That's the bare minimum."

Bellatrix allowed herself a small, satisfied smile — she had raised him well.

"If I had Lucy as a husband, I'd worry about my son too," Bellatrix said, her voice dripping with disdain. She could never think of Lucius Malfoy as anything but the pampered brat she and her cousin used to torment. "Such a dreadful choice she made."

"At least he has money," Atlas replied dismissively.

"And that's precisely why she's always flaunting it."

She offered her arm, and as soon as Atlas took it, they vanished from the dreary halls of Nidum.

Despite her little contempt for the Crow's Nidum, Bellatrix had to admit it had more personality than the soulless expanse of Malfoy Manor. The manor was as bland as the family that inhabited it — a stark reminder that wealth could never substitute for history and legacy.

Narcissa Malfoy — no longer a Black, as her blonde hair constantly reminded Bellatrix — quickly appeared and welcomed them inside.

The dining hall was already set and decorated, with silver plates and cups and green flowers and napkins everywhere, with filthy creatures bustling about, ensuring everything looked immaculate.

Lucius clearly had high expectations for his son, but Bellatrix had never thought much of him. He was as weak as his father, and she pitied her sister for it. Not even the Black blood had been enough to save the boy. Unlike Atlas, of course.

He was perfect.

"Bella mentioned you were made Prefect," Narcissa said, placing a delicate hand on Atlas's shoulder as they settled at the dining table, a warm smile on her face. "I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, Aunt," Atlas replied, his pale cheeks flushing slightly.

No matter how cold and composed Atlas appeared, a simple praise was enough to make him soften like a child. He had always craved recognition and validation, something Bellatrix had it carved in him intrinsically. There was no better form of control, after all. Atlas couldn't move a finger without the belief that at least one person he cared about was rooting for him.

It was loyalty at its best form.

"I expect you to keep an eye on your cousin for me. You know how he can never keep himself out of trouble."

"Of course he can't," Bellatrix interjected with a dismissive wave. "You've spoiled the boy far too much, Cissy."

Narcissa's gaze hardened. "If loving my son is what you call spoiling, then yes, Bella, I have."

"Coddling him like a baby. What would Mother say if she saw that your son can't even cast a spell properly?"

"Father," Narcissa retorted, "believes Draco is a great example of a young boy."

"Because he's always been soft with you."

They stared at each other in silence.

Narcissa had always been fortunate, effortlessly getting everything she wanted since birth. She had their father wrapped around her finger and her husband even more so. But their mother had always seen through her — that was the one thing Cissy had never managed to get and Bellatrix knew it had always bothered her.

Sensing the escalation, Atlas asked casually, "Where's my uncle?"

"He was in a meeting but should be arriving any minute now," Narcissa said. She then sent Bellatrix a look and smiling, asked, "And what did you think of your new broom, Atlas?"

Bellatrix took a deep breath as she saw her son's face light up, losing all his composure.

"Amazing, Aunt!" Atlas exclaimed, no trace of the quiet boy remaining. "I tried it at Marcus's house the other day. Their brooms couldn't even compare to the Nimbus. We'll win the cup without even trying this year."

"It was our pleasure, Atlas! Lucius was so impressed with that catch you made in your last game that when his friend Archimedes mentioned the new Nimbus, he knew you had to have one."

"Quidditch," Bellatrix scoffed. "You should be spending your time on more meaningful matters."

"It's just a bit of fun, mother," Atlas said, his eyes still shining with joy.

"When the Dark Lord returns, he'll have no use for fun," Bellatrix snapped, her eyes narrowing as she noticed Narcissa shift uncomfortably in her seat. "You must make yourself indispensable."

"I am," Atlas replied, his voice steady. "I'm the best of my year."

Bellatrix laughed cynically. "Oh, Atlas, if you think being the best among a bunch of foolish kids is an accomplishment, then I've done a worse job raising you than I thought."

With every word she spoke, the joy on his face dimmed, until his stoic look was firmly in place.

Her son was back.

"Atlas, why don't you go and fetch Draco for me?" Narcissa said, her tone gentle but left no place for complaints. "His friends should be arriving soon."

Atlas nodded and left the room, not daring to take another look at his mother.

"You're being unfair to him, Bella," Narcissa said as soon as the door closed behind them.

"You can raise your son as you wish, Cissy, but I won't have mine turn out like your useless husband."

"Your son is fifteen, Bella. We aren't at war. He's not a soldier. He's a child, and he deserves some happiness."

"He has plenty of happiness as it is."

"Practicing curses all day doesn't bring happiness — and, before you say it, watching you torture people doesn't either."

Bellatrix's eyes widened in shock, "I allow him to have happy moments—"

"You destroyed his broom last week after he told you he'd won the cup for Slytherin again."

"He lied to me!"

And Bellatrix had made sure he understood the consequences of it.

"Of course he did! He's a fifteen-year-old boy, Bella, and you forbade him from doing the one thing he loves most — flying!"

"The Dark Lord never wasted his time flying."

"He isn't the Dark Lord!" Narcissa's voice was stronger, firmer than Bellatrix had ever heard. "He's a child, and you need to accept that, or you'll lose him."

"He'll never leave me."

"No, you'll never leave him, because you're his mother, and you'll love him no matter what. But nothing is stopping him from leaving you," Narcissa's words were as sharp as a knife. "Don't you remember Sirius? He grew up just like us, but his mother pushed him too far. And look what became of him."

"Atlas is nothing like Sirius," Bellatrix replied, her voice trembling with anger.

"Not yet — but he could be if you keep crushing every bit of joy he has left!"

The door swung open abruptly and the sisters watched as Lucius Malfoy came inside the room.

"Is there a problem here?" Lucius Malfoy inquired, his gaze shifting from his wife's flushed face to Bellatrix's steely eyes. "Why don't you sit down, Bellatrix?"

"I need some air," Bellatrix snapped, bumping into the man as she tried to leave the room.

"You can get it later," Lucius said curtly, his hand strongly holding her arm and motioning for her to sit in a chair opposite him. "We have much to discuss and little time before the guests arrive. The Minister has approved another series of raids."

Begrudgingly, she sat down.

Once, they had the Ministry in the palm of their hands. They had made all the right alliances — Barty had even married a blood-traitor, the daughter of Wizengamot's oldest member, Alyssa Fawley — and the Malfoy and Lestrange money had bought off the others who opposed them. Those who didn't bend to their will slowly died off, one by one, until there was no one left.

Their peace had only lasted a few short years.

At the height of their power, they were almost able to remove Albus Dumbledore from the position of Chief Warlock, but then James Potter was given a seat on the Court. Not just any seat, of course. Dumbledore had granted him Amelia Bones's seat through an ancient law about bloodline inheritance in the case of sudden death. They knew, from the moment James Potter first stepped into the court, that all of their work had faded to ashes.

Hope was the most dangerous thing in the world — and the Potter family was the brightest beacon of it there was.

"My house will be the first, followed by the Lestrange estate, and then the Nott's."

"Potter again?" Bellatrix spat the name as if it were venom.

"Who else would devote so much effort to it?"

"We should kill him," Bellatrix suggested. She'd be the first one to volunteer for the work. "It's the same tiresome game every year. No matter how many galleons we spend, he always finds a new loophole."

"Killing him would be too conspicuous," Lucius countered, his voice calm as if he had already thought about this conversation a hundred times. "And the public holds him in too high regard."

"What should we do then?" Narcissa asked, her voice weary.

Lucius sighed deeply, "We must proceed with our plan."

" No ," Narcissa said firmly. "It's a dreadful idea."

"But it's our only option," Lucius insisted. "There's only so much money can buy, and our resources won't last forever."

"Bella, please," Narcissa pleaded.

"He's ready," Bellatrix said, filled with confidence.

"He's a child, Bella. A child! " Narcissa argued, but her sister remained unmoved. "Lucius! Don't force a child to dirty his hands so soon. Please."

"I've exhausted all other options, Narcissa — it's the only way."