Harry Potter - The Black Pearl: Chapter Two
Rating: Mature
Warning/s: Torture, Incest, Graphic Sex
Pairing: Bellatrix Lestrange/Rodolphus Lestrange
Word Count: 4,765
Summary: Bellatrix Lestrange's desperate need to have a child leads her into the ever consuming darkness of insanity. As she races towards her ultimate demise, with Voldemort's faith in her fading fast, she is forced to question everything she has dedicated her life to fighting for. The descent into madness is a dark and twisted one, but what if you discovered it had been forced upon you? (AU)
"...Yet do I fear thy nature,
It is too full o' th' milk of human kindness
To catch the nearest way."
- Lady Macbeth, 'Macbeth'
Within minutes of the successful birth Kreacher apparated in the dimly lit lounge of Grimauld Place. Neither of the two women taking tea so much as flinched at the intrusion, they had long since grown accustomed to the comings and goings of House Elves. Rubbing his little hands together eagerly, Kreacher hobbled forward and lowered his head respectfully. He stood silently, waiting to be acknowledged. However neither woman directed their attention to him, both taking the time to finish their tea, they were well aware he would stand there for months on end if they wished it.
Eventually the fine china cup was lowered to its matching saucer. Long slender fingers slid from the handle and the set was replaced delicately on the tea tray. With a heavy sigh, as though being pulled away from something terribly important, Druella folded her hands in her lap and turned to look at the head of the family House Elves with her usual air of disdain. “Well?” she prompted, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised.
“Kreacher did as Mistress Druella asked,” he rasped, inching closer to the dangerous blonde. “Kreacher returned with news of an heir. A healthy girl, she is. Just like Miss Bellatrix, she is. Good strong Black. Not like that filthy dirty blood traitor and her muddy changeling...”
“Be quiet!” Druella demanded, disgusted at the mere mention of the abomination that had spawned from her traitorous second child. She almost seemed to snarl like a lioness about to devour a trapped wildebeest. Then all of a sudden she rose above it, focusing on the news that she had received. A baby had survived. Maybe one of her daughters was good for something after all. “So a successful heir has finally resulted from the Black-Lestrange union. Female, at that. Cygnus would have rejoiced.” She seemed to consider her last words for a moment, as if taking the time to reflect on her now deceased husband.
Her pause led her companion, and sister in marriage, to speak up. “My brother did prefer matrilineal primogeniture to the more common agnatic system,” Walburga reasoned as she sipped her tea. Her dark eyes flowed along the lines of the Black family tree that adorned the walls around them. “Like our father before him. You were aware of this when you married dear Tripp, Druella, and proceeded to bear him three girls of your own...”
“A disappointment, a disgrace, and a delusional dreamer,” Druella responded in an icy tone. Her low tolerance for her daughters had always been clear, particularly to them.
“Not such a disappointment after all?” Walburga offered with a smirk. As the last Black of her generation she took great pride in her two nieces, despite Druella's concerns. After all they were the future of the Black family. Unlike her sons - one missing and one long since dead in her eyes.
“We shall see,” came the dark response from the new Grandmother. She did not appreciate being questioned, particularly when the questions were posed by her smug sister in law. Yet there were other more pressing concerns on her mind, such as her eldest daughter's state of mind. Bellatrix, in her opinion, had always been a few cups short of a tea party. Sure the girl could fake her way through any social engagement, she understood what it meant to be a Black, but she had a nasty habit of being predictably unpredictable at the best of times. While she had remained steadfast in her conviction that her child would not live, she now had a reason to be happy and a chance to be a mother. Druella did not like the thought of that one bit.
She leaned forward and beckoned Kreacher closer, a devilish smile on her lips. “Tell me, Kreacher, what say you of my daughter's disposition? How does she receive the child?” she knew that to get what she wanted out of the mangy rodent she would have to play nice, as much as it disgusted her. So she spoke sweetly to the House Elf, listened intently as though she hung off every word he said.
“Miss Bellatrix, she cries. She fears what has come to pass,” he told her, stating exactly what he saw. As he continued he did not recognise the wicked gleam in the woman's eyes or the way it seemed to diminish rapidly as he spoke again. “But Master Rodolphus, he tells her the baby lives. He shows her. This pleases Miss Bellatrix. This pleases Kreacher. A new heir to the most noble House of Black. A new Mistress.”
A chill settled in the room and Druella scowled. Her daughter was a promising Death Eater, the most loyal to the Dark Lord by far. Surely a child could not charm her so. “It is high time I visit my daughter and witness this new addition for myself,” she stated as she stood abruptly. “You have been most helpful, Kreacher.”
“Kreacher lives to serve the noble House of Black,” the Elf rasped as he bowed low to the floor, taking that as his cue to leave.
“Wait a moment,” Walburga stopped him. “Have they chosen a name for the child?” she was eager to get to work on the family tapestry. It had been some time since she added someone.
“Miss Bellatrix names the girl Cassiopeia,” Kreacher told her. “Cassiopeia Lestrange.”
At the mention of the child's name, Druella's eyes darkened considerably. If ever there was a time to fear the Black matriarch it was that moment. She was right to be worried. “Do not hasten to alter the tapestry, Walburga,” she growled at her sister in law, summoning her cloak in one swift movement and fastening it around her neck. “With Bellatrix's track record, we wouldn't want to get ahead of ourselves if the child weren't to survive the night.” With a sharp flick of her wrists she pulled her hood up over her head and disapparated without another word.
***
It had been a long time since Rodolphus had last heard his wife laugh. At least since he'd heard her truly laugh in good humour. The laugh he had become accustomed to was sadistic and taunting, directed only at victims that dared defy the Dark Lord. But as he watched admire their newborn daughter he heard that melodious sound once more and couldn't help but grin. Not one to miss such an opportunity, he had summoned his camera as soon as Narcissa had left them alone and had already taken far too many photos of his wife and daughter. A few littered the end of the bed where he sat, about to take another photo. They varied between Bellatrix looking at Cassiopeia, kissing her, and holding up her hand to stop him from taking more photos. She looked tired, worn out, and had told him as much. But at the same time she seemed to glow. After so many months - so many years - she was relaxed and peaceful. Happiness seemed to radiate from within her.
“I honestly will break that camera,” Bellatrix warned half-heartedly as she glanced up at her husband. Just as she looked up the flash went off again and she laughed as he shot a cheeky grin at her. “No doubt I look hideous in all of those photos.”
Rodolphus set the camera aside and crawled up the bed to sit beside her. “Now that would be impossible, love,” he assured her, pressing a kiss to her temple as he wrapped his arm around her. His hand came to rest against hers cupping their daughter's small face. She looked so beautiful, they both did, one complimenting the other. He wasn't sure he would ever get over just how lucky he was to have such a beautiful family.
Ever so gently Bellatrix ran her thumb down her daughter's nose until it rested against her lips. Her smile widened as Cassiopeia began to suck eagerly, not really aware of anything beyond having something to suck on. While, unlike earlier, she was not rewarded with milk her lips and tongue continued their rapid movement regardless. “She is a wonder,” Bella whispered as she watched her daughter. Every little movement Cassiopeia made was precious to her. From the way her tiny lips moved to the way her whole body seemed to shake with the effort of simply inhaling. Tearing her eyes away, she looked at Rodolphus and kissed his lips softly. “Thank you...”
“You're the one who put in the hard work,” he pointed out with a small shake of his head.
“But if you hadn't have forced me to rest these past few months...” she rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, thinking of how little she had cared for her own well-being let alone their child's. “We could have lost her too. Thank you for not letting me destroy this. I love you, so very much.”
“I love you, Belle...” he kissed her firmly, relishing the taste of her lips.
Cassiopeia began to squirm, her little body tensing as her mouth tried to find the thumb that had pulled away from her. As her parents returned their attention to her and her mother's thumb was at her disposal once more she settled again. Her tiny fingers flexing happily as she sucked.
“Already she's not happy to see her parents kissing,” Bellatrix said with a smile.
“Good,” Rodolphus responded, pretending to be serious. “And she shouldn't like kissing until she's at least... twenty-five.” He nodded sharply as if putting an end to the discussion.
“Twenty-five?” Bellatrix scoffed. “You were doing a lot more than kissing some years before your twenty-fifth birthday, darling. Or are you an imposter who has taken my husband's place for the past three years?”
“Surely an imposter would not fool you,” he smirked and rested his head back against the bed.
“Ah,” with a mischevious smile Bellatrix shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe I prefer you to my husband.”
Rodolphus chuckled and shook his head as he moved to stand up. “If you weren't holding my daughter I would make you pay for that,” he told her as he collected the photos on the bed.
“Where are you...” before she could finish her question Bellatrix yawned.
“I'm going to find somewhere to put these while you and the Princess sleep,” he responded with a laugh, leaning over the bed to kiss her again. “And if you try telling me you're not tired, I will slip a sleeping draught into your food.”
As she was about to argue her point, a sharp crack sounded throughout the house. The little colour that remained in Bellatrix's cheeks drained away in an instant. “Please tell me you haven't notified her already,” she said quickly, adjusting her position on the bed so she could sit a little straighter.
“I swear to you I haven't told a soul,” he promised her. They could hear the sharp click of heeled boots on the staircase, heading straight for their bedroom. It could only be one person and neither of them wanted to see her.
Appearing in the doorway in no time at all Druella Black stood regally, assessing the scene before her. Despite having apparated into the manor and waltzed up the stairs with no regard for etiquette she seemed as though she was waiting for an invitation to enter the room. “I see there is cause for celebration,” she said as she stepped through the door, no longer waiting for either of them to say a word.
“Mother,” Bellatrix pushed herself up into a sitting position, holding Cassiopeia a little tighter. Lying around when her mother was in the room was not an option - she'd learnt that as a child. One of the many social 'customs' she was conditioned to obey as she grew up. “We weren't expecting you so soon.” She offered as some form of explanation for not sending word of their daughter's birth. They'd wanted at least a day before they were forced into all the niceties.
“Clearly,” Druella muttered, the disdain in her voice more than apparent as her eyes surveyed the bedroom. “I trust you'll be on your feet soon, or at least moving downstairs. It's not at all proper to be receiving guests in your bedroom.”
Bellatrix's eyes widened and she looked at her husband as she struggled to hold her tongue. She felt a desperate need to point out that there was no guest to greet. Surely her mother wasn't one as she had simply gone ahead and invited herself to the Manor, not at all appropriate behaviour.
As Rodolphus gathered his photos and his camera, he smiled brightly. “I was just on my way to have the House Elves prepare the sitting room for her,” he informed his mother in law with a confident air. He knew she wouldn't dare question the man of the house, she held too much respect for a patriarchal system. “If you'll excuse me a moment...”
The expression on Bellatrix's face turned from shock to pure dread. As her mother looked for a place to sit she silently begged Rodolphus not to leave her. No good could come of being left alone in a room with Druella Black. Much to her dismay he paid no attention to her and she was left to fend for herself.
Not finding the armchair at all comfortable, and in no mood to transfigure herself a chair, Druella stood in the centre of the room and turned to look at her daughter once more. Her eyes fell to the bundle in her arms, the little hand she could see clutching at Bellatrix's finger. “A child at last, Bellatrix, you must be...” she cringed slightly as if the word she was about to say was by far the most vulgar in the English language. “...happy.”
“Of course, Mother,” she tried her best not to react to her mother's insensitive nature. But then, for the moment, she was too thrilled with the present to dwell in the past. A smile broke out before she could stop herself. “Would you like to hold your granddaughter?” she asked, as though it would fix everything.
Druella arched an eyebrow and moved around to the side of the bed, being sure to remain at a safe distance. “I shall observe her,” she stated simply. “Harbouring such childish notions, Bellatrix, it's just another infant. There is no need for foolishness.”
“But surely...”
“Show her to me,” Druella ordered, cutting off her daughter. She had no interest in menial conversation. She was there to determine the best course of action for her family. That was all. As Bellatrix turned the baby to face her, she studied the small features. She could certainly see the Lestrange influence in the girl already, but more importantly she recognised the baby was the spitting image of her eldest daughter as a newborn. No doubt she would be just as much trouble too. “She must have the Lestrange disposition you were not as easily placated as an infant. In appearance she's certainly more like you. With any luck she will grow out of that, develop the olive complexion and finer features of her father. But then, these things can't be helped.”
Wrapping her daughter back in her warm embrace, Bellatrix looked absolutely horrified. “There is nothing wrong with her appearance. Or mine, for that matter,” she looked down at Cassiopeia and smiled proudly at the thought that they looked so alike. Completely oblivious to her mother's reaction, she allowed herself a moment to fall hopelessly in love with her daughter once more. “She is a gorgeous baby and she shall grow to be a beautiful young woman.” There was an air of confidence in her voice she hadn't had before.
Talking about her daughter seemed to produce a light in her that Druella had never seen before. She was far from accustomed to seeing her daughter happy, and it wasn't something she particularly enjoyed. Her daughter was one of the finest duellists in the Wizarding World, hard of heart and yet melting over a child.
“No.”
Bellatrix looked up at her mother with a frown as the harsh word was suddenly uttered. Confusion was clear in her expression as she glared at her mother. “What do you mean 'no'?” she asked curiously, already wary of where the conversation would lead.
“This won't do,” Druella said simply.
Instinctively Bellatrix held her daughter closer. If there was one thing that managed to strike fear into the very depths of her heart, it was Druella Black, and in that moment as she looked at her mother Bellatrix was terrified. “I don't understand...” she began but was swiftly cut off.
“You are the heir to the Black family, Bellatrix, and you are welcomed openly at the Dark Lord's table,” she moved closer to the bed for the first time, her usually bright blue eyes appearing dark grey like clouds in an oncoming storm. “You have the potential for greatness. A woman of your stature could rule at the Dark Lord's side in times to come. I will not have anything stand in your way.”
With great effort Bellatrix pushed herself across the bed away from her mother, desperate to protect her daughter. “RODOLPHUS!” She cried out, not daring to take her eyes off her mother for a second. As her heart began to race Cassiopeia stirred, the sudden change in her mother's heart rate unsettling her. “This is my life, Mother. You cannot just waltz in and take it away!”
“This maternal 'instinct' doesn't suit you at all, child. Look at you, cowering and calling for a man to assist you, already you are affected - damaged by this unfortunate event...” Druella drew her wand just as Rodolphus ran into the room. She turned on him as he drew his own wand, aware her daughter didn't have the strength to go anywhere. “I will do what is right for my family, and cursed be those who try to stop me.”
Rodolphus kept his wand trained on his mother in law as he inched towards his wife. He knew the price he would pay if he dared to look away from her for one moment. “Bellatrix is no longer your concern. She is my wife, the mother of my child. This is my family and I will protect them,” he warned the old witch.
“You would be nothing if we had not allowed you to marry our daughter...”
“Do not speak for my Father,” Bellatrix growled as she felt Rodolphus move to stand behind her. As long as he was with her everything would be fine.
Druella stood to her full height, her hand placed firmly on her hip. “Of course, we wouldn't want to upset the Little Star,” she spat out the childish nickname her late husband had bestowed on their eldest child. Her eyes flicked quickly between her daughter and son in law, waiting for one of them to strike. “You cannot hope to raise this child and maintain the reputation you have worked so hard to achieve.”
“I will do what I like, you have no say in the matter,” Bellatrix argued, beginning to reclaim her former self in front of her mother. “I am no longer a child, and I certainly have not been your child for a long time. What I do with my life is not your concern.”
“You will have no life with that attached to your breast,” her mother argued, pointing her wand towards the baby. “Children do nothing but suck the life out of you until there is nothing left to call your own. You will never be a truly powerful witch again. You'll be nothing but a common housewife, answering to your husband and your child before yourself. No self respecting witch could want such a thing.”
“I WANT IT!” Bellatrix screamed, causing Cassiopeia's little limbs to jerk violently in her arms. For the first time in her life she was freely admitting to herself and her family the one thing she wanted more than anything else. She would gladly give up everything she had just to have her daughter, she'd wanted nothing else for far too long. “I want this life. I want this family. It's what I've always wanted. If you harboured any shred of human decency or even the capacity to be anything other than a neglectful mother, you would know that.”
Without warning Druella flicked her wrist, summoning the baby to her before either of the child's parents could stop her. As Cassiopeia was pulled from her mother's arms she began to cry, as if begging her mother to take her back and keep her warm. She flew across the room into Druella's waiting arms, yet her cries did not stop.
Rodolphus moved as if to strike only to be stopped moments before he uttered a single curse. His wife screamed and grabbed his wand arm, forcing him to lower his weapon. “Bellatrix...”
“One wrong move and you'll hit our daughter,” Bellatrix warned him, her fear evident in her eyes.
“Unhand my daughter, Druella,” Rodolphus snarled.
“This child will bring this family nothing but harm,” Druella backed towards the door, holding her wand out ready to curse the first person who tried to stop her. “My daughter is destined for greatness. You, Rodolphus Lestrange, you keep her from it. This concept of family, a home, she didn't dare think such stupidity until you came along. Bellatrix Black is good for one thing and one thing only, she knows how to duel. The Dark Lord needs her, without her we have lost the war and it will be on your head. This child leads her from her true path and I will not have a daughter of mine ruined by a mere infant!” she pointed her wand at the baby in her arms, eliciting a sharp scream from her daughter.
“No, Druella, don't...” Rodolphus moved quickly around the bed, trying to think of some way to save his newborn daughter without causing her any harm.
“Bellatrix has no business being a mother, this is for the greater good...”
“Let me take the child,” he said quickly before he even knew what he was saying. As his mother in law turned her attention to him, he went with the first thing that came to mind. “Killing the child in front of Bellatrix will only turn her against you, possibly against the Dark Lord. Let me take the child far away, let me be the one to bury this burden.”
As Druella appeared to consider his offer Bellatrix pushed herself across the bed, the pain in her abdomen excruciating. “Rodolphus, no... please, no...” she had no idea what was happening, but she wanted her daughter. She couldn't trust anyone to keep her daughter safe, she needed the baby back in her arms.
“Let me take the child, Mother,” Rodolphus continued, reaching out his arms. “There's no need for you to belittle yourself with such a task. Stay and insure Bellatrix heals. She's going to need a great deal of rest before she can return to the Dark Lord's side.”
As the baby continued to scream, grating on her nerves, Druella stepped towards him and handed the baby over. “One wrong move, Lestrange, and neither of you will leave this room alive,” she warned him as he cradled the baby in his arms.
“Not one,” he responded simply, barely reacting to his daughter's crying.
“Be done with it then,” she muttered, waving her hand to be sure he knew he was dismissed.
“NO!” Bellatrix screamed. “RODOLPHUS!” she tried to get up to stop him, tried desperately to follow him, but all she managed to do was fall to the ground. Her body was too weak, too riddled with pain, to do anything more. Vaguely she registered Narcissa calling her name, but all she could focus on was her husband. She struggled to follow him, dragging her body across the floor and crying out. “Rodolphus, please, don't take her,” as Rodolphus disappeared out the door with their daughter she screamed with all her might. “My baby, you can't have her, my beautiful. She's mine! You can't take my baby!” her nails scraped across the floorboards as she tried to keep moving.
A slim black boot stepped in front of the distraught witch, momentarily halting her movement. “This is for your own good, darling,” Druella told her daughter, any emotion she felt absent in her tone.
Bellatrix continued to scream, slamming her fists down hard on the floor like a child throwing a tantrum. She screamed for her husband to come back but there was no point. Each cry only infuriated her mother further. Still she screamed, she screamed with every ounce of breath left in her body, and she would scream until there was none left. She wanted her daughter back, she wanted her child.
Reacting to her eldest daughter with nothing but a raised eyebrow, Druella held her wand out over the body sprawled at her feet. “Crucio!” her wand moved swiftly through the air, the spell hitting the target instantly.
The weakened body twisted violently on the floor, Bellatrix had neither the strength or will to resist it. Pain erupted through her body, every nerve was on fire, and as the curse was lifted she couldn't help but scream once more. Every inch of her body burned but it was nothing compared to the pain of her heart shattering in her chest. Defying her mother she kept screaming, nothing but a blubbering mess at her mother's feet.
Druella flicked her wand over her daughter again, holding the curse longer and drawing out the pain. Only when she was satisfied did she lift it and the screaming finally subsided. As her daughter lay only semi-conscious, her muscles twitching with small seizures and moaning quietly, Druella called for the Healer she had left waiting outside the room. She turned her back on Bellatrix as she joined her companion at the door. “We'll remove all traces of the child,” she said simply. “I think you'll find my skills with the Obliviate charm to be more than sufficient. But there is the problem of this happening again. My daughter has proven that she can be easily swayed by an infant, any offspring at this stage will divert her attention from her future at the Dark Lord's side. It is, therefore, in our best interest to prevent such a development from taking place again...” they both stepped out of the room and the heartless witch paused as she noticed her youngest daughter standing in the hallway.
Unable to hide her fear, Narcissa took a step back. If her mother planned to remove Bellatrix's memories there was no telling what she would do to her. She'd never had reason to fear her mother before, without question she'd always been Druella's favourite, but as she stood in the hallway Narcissa found herself fearing for her life.
For a moment it seemed as if the older witch would say something. She considered her daughter carefully, assessing the threat she posed. Then she simply turned back to the Healer and the two continued downstairs, discussing the next part of Druella's plan.
Narcissa breathed in sharply, not having realised she'd stopped for that moment. With her heart beating furiously she ran into the bedroom and fell to her knees beside her sister. “Bellatrix,” she turned her sister over and gently caressed her cheek. “Bella, please, say something.” She wasn't sure what to do. There was nothing she could do without being caught.
Bellatrix looked like death.
Staring at her sister's pale face, Narcissa was reminded of viewing their Father before his funeral. The only difference was that Bellatrix looked far from being at peace. “Stay with me,” she whispered as she bent down and pressed a kiss to Bella's forehead.
“Cissy...” Bellatrix barely managed to speak as she recognised her little sister's voice. “Don't let... don't let them...” it was a struggle simply to breathe, but she tried anyway. She had to keep fighting.
“Stay calm,” Narcissa whispered, brushing Bellatrix's hair from her face. “Everything will be alright, just stay calm. Don't try to move. It's all going to be fine, you'll see.”
A single tear slipped down Bellatrix's cheek and she forced out a strangled cry. She was too tired to argue, too tired to point out that nothing would be alright again. “Cassi...” she breathed out her daughter's name, determined never to forget.
And with that final act, Bellatrix passed out.
>> Chapter Three
Warning/s: Torture, Incest, Graphic Sex
Pairing: Bellatrix Lestrange/Rodolphus Lestrange
Word Count: 4,765
Summary: Bellatrix Lestrange's desperate need to have a child leads her into the ever consuming darkness of insanity. As she races towards her ultimate demise, with Voldemort's faith in her fading fast, she is forced to question everything she has dedicated her life to fighting for. The descent into madness is a dark and twisted one, but what if you discovered it had been forced upon you? (AU)
"...Yet do I fear thy nature,
It is too full o' th' milk of human kindness
To catch the nearest way."
- Lady Macbeth, 'Macbeth'
Within minutes of the successful birth Kreacher apparated in the dimly lit lounge of Grimauld Place. Neither of the two women taking tea so much as flinched at the intrusion, they had long since grown accustomed to the comings and goings of House Elves. Rubbing his little hands together eagerly, Kreacher hobbled forward and lowered his head respectfully. He stood silently, waiting to be acknowledged. However neither woman directed their attention to him, both taking the time to finish their tea, they were well aware he would stand there for months on end if they wished it.
Eventually the fine china cup was lowered to its matching saucer. Long slender fingers slid from the handle and the set was replaced delicately on the tea tray. With a heavy sigh, as though being pulled away from something terribly important, Druella folded her hands in her lap and turned to look at the head of the family House Elves with her usual air of disdain. “Well?” she prompted, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised.
“Kreacher did as Mistress Druella asked,” he rasped, inching closer to the dangerous blonde. “Kreacher returned with news of an heir. A healthy girl, she is. Just like Miss Bellatrix, she is. Good strong Black. Not like that filthy dirty blood traitor and her muddy changeling...”
“Be quiet!” Druella demanded, disgusted at the mere mention of the abomination that had spawned from her traitorous second child. She almost seemed to snarl like a lioness about to devour a trapped wildebeest. Then all of a sudden she rose above it, focusing on the news that she had received. A baby had survived. Maybe one of her daughters was good for something after all. “So a successful heir has finally resulted from the Black-Lestrange union. Female, at that. Cygnus would have rejoiced.” She seemed to consider her last words for a moment, as if taking the time to reflect on her now deceased husband.
Her pause led her companion, and sister in marriage, to speak up. “My brother did prefer matrilineal primogeniture to the more common agnatic system,” Walburga reasoned as she sipped her tea. Her dark eyes flowed along the lines of the Black family tree that adorned the walls around them. “Like our father before him. You were aware of this when you married dear Tripp, Druella, and proceeded to bear him three girls of your own...”
“A disappointment, a disgrace, and a delusional dreamer,” Druella responded in an icy tone. Her low tolerance for her daughters had always been clear, particularly to them.
“Not such a disappointment after all?” Walburga offered with a smirk. As the last Black of her generation she took great pride in her two nieces, despite Druella's concerns. After all they were the future of the Black family. Unlike her sons - one missing and one long since dead in her eyes.
“We shall see,” came the dark response from the new Grandmother. She did not appreciate being questioned, particularly when the questions were posed by her smug sister in law. Yet there were other more pressing concerns on her mind, such as her eldest daughter's state of mind. Bellatrix, in her opinion, had always been a few cups short of a tea party. Sure the girl could fake her way through any social engagement, she understood what it meant to be a Black, but she had a nasty habit of being predictably unpredictable at the best of times. While she had remained steadfast in her conviction that her child would not live, she now had a reason to be happy and a chance to be a mother. Druella did not like the thought of that one bit.
She leaned forward and beckoned Kreacher closer, a devilish smile on her lips. “Tell me, Kreacher, what say you of my daughter's disposition? How does she receive the child?” she knew that to get what she wanted out of the mangy rodent she would have to play nice, as much as it disgusted her. So she spoke sweetly to the House Elf, listened intently as though she hung off every word he said.
“Miss Bellatrix, she cries. She fears what has come to pass,” he told her, stating exactly what he saw. As he continued he did not recognise the wicked gleam in the woman's eyes or the way it seemed to diminish rapidly as he spoke again. “But Master Rodolphus, he tells her the baby lives. He shows her. This pleases Miss Bellatrix. This pleases Kreacher. A new heir to the most noble House of Black. A new Mistress.”
A chill settled in the room and Druella scowled. Her daughter was a promising Death Eater, the most loyal to the Dark Lord by far. Surely a child could not charm her so. “It is high time I visit my daughter and witness this new addition for myself,” she stated as she stood abruptly. “You have been most helpful, Kreacher.”
“Kreacher lives to serve the noble House of Black,” the Elf rasped as he bowed low to the floor, taking that as his cue to leave.
“Wait a moment,” Walburga stopped him. “Have they chosen a name for the child?” she was eager to get to work on the family tapestry. It had been some time since she added someone.
“Miss Bellatrix names the girl Cassiopeia,” Kreacher told her. “Cassiopeia Lestrange.”
At the mention of the child's name, Druella's eyes darkened considerably. If ever there was a time to fear the Black matriarch it was that moment. She was right to be worried. “Do not hasten to alter the tapestry, Walburga,” she growled at her sister in law, summoning her cloak in one swift movement and fastening it around her neck. “With Bellatrix's track record, we wouldn't want to get ahead of ourselves if the child weren't to survive the night.” With a sharp flick of her wrists she pulled her hood up over her head and disapparated without another word.
***
It had been a long time since Rodolphus had last heard his wife laugh. At least since he'd heard her truly laugh in good humour. The laugh he had become accustomed to was sadistic and taunting, directed only at victims that dared defy the Dark Lord. But as he watched admire their newborn daughter he heard that melodious sound once more and couldn't help but grin. Not one to miss such an opportunity, he had summoned his camera as soon as Narcissa had left them alone and had already taken far too many photos of his wife and daughter. A few littered the end of the bed where he sat, about to take another photo. They varied between Bellatrix looking at Cassiopeia, kissing her, and holding up her hand to stop him from taking more photos. She looked tired, worn out, and had told him as much. But at the same time she seemed to glow. After so many months - so many years - she was relaxed and peaceful. Happiness seemed to radiate from within her.
“I honestly will break that camera,” Bellatrix warned half-heartedly as she glanced up at her husband. Just as she looked up the flash went off again and she laughed as he shot a cheeky grin at her. “No doubt I look hideous in all of those photos.”
Rodolphus set the camera aside and crawled up the bed to sit beside her. “Now that would be impossible, love,” he assured her, pressing a kiss to her temple as he wrapped his arm around her. His hand came to rest against hers cupping their daughter's small face. She looked so beautiful, they both did, one complimenting the other. He wasn't sure he would ever get over just how lucky he was to have such a beautiful family.
Ever so gently Bellatrix ran her thumb down her daughter's nose until it rested against her lips. Her smile widened as Cassiopeia began to suck eagerly, not really aware of anything beyond having something to suck on. While, unlike earlier, she was not rewarded with milk her lips and tongue continued their rapid movement regardless. “She is a wonder,” Bella whispered as she watched her daughter. Every little movement Cassiopeia made was precious to her. From the way her tiny lips moved to the way her whole body seemed to shake with the effort of simply inhaling. Tearing her eyes away, she looked at Rodolphus and kissed his lips softly. “Thank you...”
“You're the one who put in the hard work,” he pointed out with a small shake of his head.
“But if you hadn't have forced me to rest these past few months...” she rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, thinking of how little she had cared for her own well-being let alone their child's. “We could have lost her too. Thank you for not letting me destroy this. I love you, so very much.”
“I love you, Belle...” he kissed her firmly, relishing the taste of her lips.
Cassiopeia began to squirm, her little body tensing as her mouth tried to find the thumb that had pulled away from her. As her parents returned their attention to her and her mother's thumb was at her disposal once more she settled again. Her tiny fingers flexing happily as she sucked.
“Already she's not happy to see her parents kissing,” Bellatrix said with a smile.
“Good,” Rodolphus responded, pretending to be serious. “And she shouldn't like kissing until she's at least... twenty-five.” He nodded sharply as if putting an end to the discussion.
“Twenty-five?” Bellatrix scoffed. “You were doing a lot more than kissing some years before your twenty-fifth birthday, darling. Or are you an imposter who has taken my husband's place for the past three years?”
“Surely an imposter would not fool you,” he smirked and rested his head back against the bed.
“Ah,” with a mischevious smile Bellatrix shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe I prefer you to my husband.”
Rodolphus chuckled and shook his head as he moved to stand up. “If you weren't holding my daughter I would make you pay for that,” he told her as he collected the photos on the bed.
“Where are you...” before she could finish her question Bellatrix yawned.
“I'm going to find somewhere to put these while you and the Princess sleep,” he responded with a laugh, leaning over the bed to kiss her again. “And if you try telling me you're not tired, I will slip a sleeping draught into your food.”
As she was about to argue her point, a sharp crack sounded throughout the house. The little colour that remained in Bellatrix's cheeks drained away in an instant. “Please tell me you haven't notified her already,” she said quickly, adjusting her position on the bed so she could sit a little straighter.
“I swear to you I haven't told a soul,” he promised her. They could hear the sharp click of heeled boots on the staircase, heading straight for their bedroom. It could only be one person and neither of them wanted to see her.
Appearing in the doorway in no time at all Druella Black stood regally, assessing the scene before her. Despite having apparated into the manor and waltzed up the stairs with no regard for etiquette she seemed as though she was waiting for an invitation to enter the room. “I see there is cause for celebration,” she said as she stepped through the door, no longer waiting for either of them to say a word.
“Mother,” Bellatrix pushed herself up into a sitting position, holding Cassiopeia a little tighter. Lying around when her mother was in the room was not an option - she'd learnt that as a child. One of the many social 'customs' she was conditioned to obey as she grew up. “We weren't expecting you so soon.” She offered as some form of explanation for not sending word of their daughter's birth. They'd wanted at least a day before they were forced into all the niceties.
“Clearly,” Druella muttered, the disdain in her voice more than apparent as her eyes surveyed the bedroom. “I trust you'll be on your feet soon, or at least moving downstairs. It's not at all proper to be receiving guests in your bedroom.”
Bellatrix's eyes widened and she looked at her husband as she struggled to hold her tongue. She felt a desperate need to point out that there was no guest to greet. Surely her mother wasn't one as she had simply gone ahead and invited herself to the Manor, not at all appropriate behaviour.
As Rodolphus gathered his photos and his camera, he smiled brightly. “I was just on my way to have the House Elves prepare the sitting room for her,” he informed his mother in law with a confident air. He knew she wouldn't dare question the man of the house, she held too much respect for a patriarchal system. “If you'll excuse me a moment...”
The expression on Bellatrix's face turned from shock to pure dread. As her mother looked for a place to sit she silently begged Rodolphus not to leave her. No good could come of being left alone in a room with Druella Black. Much to her dismay he paid no attention to her and she was left to fend for herself.
Not finding the armchair at all comfortable, and in no mood to transfigure herself a chair, Druella stood in the centre of the room and turned to look at her daughter once more. Her eyes fell to the bundle in her arms, the little hand she could see clutching at Bellatrix's finger. “A child at last, Bellatrix, you must be...” she cringed slightly as if the word she was about to say was by far the most vulgar in the English language. “...happy.”
“Of course, Mother,” she tried her best not to react to her mother's insensitive nature. But then, for the moment, she was too thrilled with the present to dwell in the past. A smile broke out before she could stop herself. “Would you like to hold your granddaughter?” she asked, as though it would fix everything.
Druella arched an eyebrow and moved around to the side of the bed, being sure to remain at a safe distance. “I shall observe her,” she stated simply. “Harbouring such childish notions, Bellatrix, it's just another infant. There is no need for foolishness.”
“But surely...”
“Show her to me,” Druella ordered, cutting off her daughter. She had no interest in menial conversation. She was there to determine the best course of action for her family. That was all. As Bellatrix turned the baby to face her, she studied the small features. She could certainly see the Lestrange influence in the girl already, but more importantly she recognised the baby was the spitting image of her eldest daughter as a newborn. No doubt she would be just as much trouble too. “She must have the Lestrange disposition you were not as easily placated as an infant. In appearance she's certainly more like you. With any luck she will grow out of that, develop the olive complexion and finer features of her father. But then, these things can't be helped.”
Wrapping her daughter back in her warm embrace, Bellatrix looked absolutely horrified. “There is nothing wrong with her appearance. Or mine, for that matter,” she looked down at Cassiopeia and smiled proudly at the thought that they looked so alike. Completely oblivious to her mother's reaction, she allowed herself a moment to fall hopelessly in love with her daughter once more. “She is a gorgeous baby and she shall grow to be a beautiful young woman.” There was an air of confidence in her voice she hadn't had before.
Talking about her daughter seemed to produce a light in her that Druella had never seen before. She was far from accustomed to seeing her daughter happy, and it wasn't something she particularly enjoyed. Her daughter was one of the finest duellists in the Wizarding World, hard of heart and yet melting over a child.
“No.”
Bellatrix looked up at her mother with a frown as the harsh word was suddenly uttered. Confusion was clear in her expression as she glared at her mother. “What do you mean 'no'?” she asked curiously, already wary of where the conversation would lead.
“This won't do,” Druella said simply.
Instinctively Bellatrix held her daughter closer. If there was one thing that managed to strike fear into the very depths of her heart, it was Druella Black, and in that moment as she looked at her mother Bellatrix was terrified. “I don't understand...” she began but was swiftly cut off.
“You are the heir to the Black family, Bellatrix, and you are welcomed openly at the Dark Lord's table,” she moved closer to the bed for the first time, her usually bright blue eyes appearing dark grey like clouds in an oncoming storm. “You have the potential for greatness. A woman of your stature could rule at the Dark Lord's side in times to come. I will not have anything stand in your way.”
With great effort Bellatrix pushed herself across the bed away from her mother, desperate to protect her daughter. “RODOLPHUS!” She cried out, not daring to take her eyes off her mother for a second. As her heart began to race Cassiopeia stirred, the sudden change in her mother's heart rate unsettling her. “This is my life, Mother. You cannot just waltz in and take it away!”
“This maternal 'instinct' doesn't suit you at all, child. Look at you, cowering and calling for a man to assist you, already you are affected - damaged by this unfortunate event...” Druella drew her wand just as Rodolphus ran into the room. She turned on him as he drew his own wand, aware her daughter didn't have the strength to go anywhere. “I will do what is right for my family, and cursed be those who try to stop me.”
Rodolphus kept his wand trained on his mother in law as he inched towards his wife. He knew the price he would pay if he dared to look away from her for one moment. “Bellatrix is no longer your concern. She is my wife, the mother of my child. This is my family and I will protect them,” he warned the old witch.
“You would be nothing if we had not allowed you to marry our daughter...”
“Do not speak for my Father,” Bellatrix growled as she felt Rodolphus move to stand behind her. As long as he was with her everything would be fine.
Druella stood to her full height, her hand placed firmly on her hip. “Of course, we wouldn't want to upset the Little Star,” she spat out the childish nickname her late husband had bestowed on their eldest child. Her eyes flicked quickly between her daughter and son in law, waiting for one of them to strike. “You cannot hope to raise this child and maintain the reputation you have worked so hard to achieve.”
“I will do what I like, you have no say in the matter,” Bellatrix argued, beginning to reclaim her former self in front of her mother. “I am no longer a child, and I certainly have not been your child for a long time. What I do with my life is not your concern.”
“You will have no life with that attached to your breast,” her mother argued, pointing her wand towards the baby. “Children do nothing but suck the life out of you until there is nothing left to call your own. You will never be a truly powerful witch again. You'll be nothing but a common housewife, answering to your husband and your child before yourself. No self respecting witch could want such a thing.”
“I WANT IT!” Bellatrix screamed, causing Cassiopeia's little limbs to jerk violently in her arms. For the first time in her life she was freely admitting to herself and her family the one thing she wanted more than anything else. She would gladly give up everything she had just to have her daughter, she'd wanted nothing else for far too long. “I want this life. I want this family. It's what I've always wanted. If you harboured any shred of human decency or even the capacity to be anything other than a neglectful mother, you would know that.”
Without warning Druella flicked her wrist, summoning the baby to her before either of the child's parents could stop her. As Cassiopeia was pulled from her mother's arms she began to cry, as if begging her mother to take her back and keep her warm. She flew across the room into Druella's waiting arms, yet her cries did not stop.
Rodolphus moved as if to strike only to be stopped moments before he uttered a single curse. His wife screamed and grabbed his wand arm, forcing him to lower his weapon. “Bellatrix...”
“One wrong move and you'll hit our daughter,” Bellatrix warned him, her fear evident in her eyes.
“Unhand my daughter, Druella,” Rodolphus snarled.
“This child will bring this family nothing but harm,” Druella backed towards the door, holding her wand out ready to curse the first person who tried to stop her. “My daughter is destined for greatness. You, Rodolphus Lestrange, you keep her from it. This concept of family, a home, she didn't dare think such stupidity until you came along. Bellatrix Black is good for one thing and one thing only, she knows how to duel. The Dark Lord needs her, without her we have lost the war and it will be on your head. This child leads her from her true path and I will not have a daughter of mine ruined by a mere infant!” she pointed her wand at the baby in her arms, eliciting a sharp scream from her daughter.
“No, Druella, don't...” Rodolphus moved quickly around the bed, trying to think of some way to save his newborn daughter without causing her any harm.
“Bellatrix has no business being a mother, this is for the greater good...”
“Let me take the child,” he said quickly before he even knew what he was saying. As his mother in law turned her attention to him, he went with the first thing that came to mind. “Killing the child in front of Bellatrix will only turn her against you, possibly against the Dark Lord. Let me take the child far away, let me be the one to bury this burden.”
As Druella appeared to consider his offer Bellatrix pushed herself across the bed, the pain in her abdomen excruciating. “Rodolphus, no... please, no...” she had no idea what was happening, but she wanted her daughter. She couldn't trust anyone to keep her daughter safe, she needed the baby back in her arms.
“Let me take the child, Mother,” Rodolphus continued, reaching out his arms. “There's no need for you to belittle yourself with such a task. Stay and insure Bellatrix heals. She's going to need a great deal of rest before she can return to the Dark Lord's side.”
As the baby continued to scream, grating on her nerves, Druella stepped towards him and handed the baby over. “One wrong move, Lestrange, and neither of you will leave this room alive,” she warned him as he cradled the baby in his arms.
“Not one,” he responded simply, barely reacting to his daughter's crying.
“Be done with it then,” she muttered, waving her hand to be sure he knew he was dismissed.
“NO!” Bellatrix screamed. “RODOLPHUS!” she tried to get up to stop him, tried desperately to follow him, but all she managed to do was fall to the ground. Her body was too weak, too riddled with pain, to do anything more. Vaguely she registered Narcissa calling her name, but all she could focus on was her husband. She struggled to follow him, dragging her body across the floor and crying out. “Rodolphus, please, don't take her,” as Rodolphus disappeared out the door with their daughter she screamed with all her might. “My baby, you can't have her, my beautiful. She's mine! You can't take my baby!” her nails scraped across the floorboards as she tried to keep moving.
A slim black boot stepped in front of the distraught witch, momentarily halting her movement. “This is for your own good, darling,” Druella told her daughter, any emotion she felt absent in her tone.
Bellatrix continued to scream, slamming her fists down hard on the floor like a child throwing a tantrum. She screamed for her husband to come back but there was no point. Each cry only infuriated her mother further. Still she screamed, she screamed with every ounce of breath left in her body, and she would scream until there was none left. She wanted her daughter back, she wanted her child.
Reacting to her eldest daughter with nothing but a raised eyebrow, Druella held her wand out over the body sprawled at her feet. “Crucio!” her wand moved swiftly through the air, the spell hitting the target instantly.
The weakened body twisted violently on the floor, Bellatrix had neither the strength or will to resist it. Pain erupted through her body, every nerve was on fire, and as the curse was lifted she couldn't help but scream once more. Every inch of her body burned but it was nothing compared to the pain of her heart shattering in her chest. Defying her mother she kept screaming, nothing but a blubbering mess at her mother's feet.
Druella flicked her wand over her daughter again, holding the curse longer and drawing out the pain. Only when she was satisfied did she lift it and the screaming finally subsided. As her daughter lay only semi-conscious, her muscles twitching with small seizures and moaning quietly, Druella called for the Healer she had left waiting outside the room. She turned her back on Bellatrix as she joined her companion at the door. “We'll remove all traces of the child,” she said simply. “I think you'll find my skills with the Obliviate charm to be more than sufficient. But there is the problem of this happening again. My daughter has proven that she can be easily swayed by an infant, any offspring at this stage will divert her attention from her future at the Dark Lord's side. It is, therefore, in our best interest to prevent such a development from taking place again...” they both stepped out of the room and the heartless witch paused as she noticed her youngest daughter standing in the hallway.
Unable to hide her fear, Narcissa took a step back. If her mother planned to remove Bellatrix's memories there was no telling what she would do to her. She'd never had reason to fear her mother before, without question she'd always been Druella's favourite, but as she stood in the hallway Narcissa found herself fearing for her life.
For a moment it seemed as if the older witch would say something. She considered her daughter carefully, assessing the threat she posed. Then she simply turned back to the Healer and the two continued downstairs, discussing the next part of Druella's plan.
Narcissa breathed in sharply, not having realised she'd stopped for that moment. With her heart beating furiously she ran into the bedroom and fell to her knees beside her sister. “Bellatrix,” she turned her sister over and gently caressed her cheek. “Bella, please, say something.” She wasn't sure what to do. There was nothing she could do without being caught.
Bellatrix looked like death.
Staring at her sister's pale face, Narcissa was reminded of viewing their Father before his funeral. The only difference was that Bellatrix looked far from being at peace. “Stay with me,” she whispered as she bent down and pressed a kiss to Bella's forehead.
“Cissy...” Bellatrix barely managed to speak as she recognised her little sister's voice. “Don't let... don't let them...” it was a struggle simply to breathe, but she tried anyway. She had to keep fighting.
“Stay calm,” Narcissa whispered, brushing Bellatrix's hair from her face. “Everything will be alright, just stay calm. Don't try to move. It's all going to be fine, you'll see.”
A single tear slipped down Bellatrix's cheek and she forced out a strangled cry. She was too tired to argue, too tired to point out that nothing would be alright again. “Cassi...” she breathed out her daughter's name, determined never to forget.
And with that final act, Bellatrix passed out.
>> Chapter Three