Chapter Text
Fade To Black - M
November 5, 1981
Thunder roared. Heavy rain crashed through the entrance of Lestrange Manor as the large double doors were flung open. A hooded figure emerged from the storm, frantically sprinting inside. With a twist and slash of their wand, they slammed the doors shut, causing their hood to fall back and reveal unruly, curly black hair.
Bellatrix Lestrange struggled to control her breathing as she backed away from the doors, unable to look away. Her mind screamed at her to run, but her legs refused to obey.
Where would she even go? She was trapped. This was the end of the line. It was only a matter of time until—
BANG
The front doors violently bent inward, causing pieces of wood to splinter off. The wards would not hold for much longer. In that moment, Bellatrix found her legs again, turning around and sprinting deeper into the mansion, desperation kicking in.
“Lestrange!” the voice of Mad-Eye Moody roared from the other side. “Give it up, Lestrange! There’s nowhere to run! We’ve got you now, you murderer!”
BANG
Bellatrix rushed past the main chamber toward the hall behind the large staircase. She could hear windows shattering throughout the manor as Aurors attempted to force their way in.
She didn’t exactly know where she was going, as if her feet carried her entirely on instinct.
She finally ended up at the entrance of the manor’s cellar. She paused at the door for just a moment. There were many things down there she could use to go out with a bang, she supposed. Why not? It was either that or rot in Azkaban. If she was going to die here tonight, she would take as many of those damned Aurors with her as she could.
She let out a grunt of frustration, glancing behind her, then back to the cellar. If only she had done things differently, it would have never come to this. If only her idiotic husband hadn’t been reckless when he kidnapped the Longbottoms. Her Lord would be so disappointed in their incompetence, in her lack of initiative. She supposed there was no sense in dwelling on it now. It wasn’t as if she could reverse—
Her eyes went wide as it came to her. 'That’s it!' she thought, surging forward into the cellar. Once inside, she sealed the door with the strongest barrier she could possibly muster. That should buy me some time! She bounded down the long, narrow stairway to another, even larger steel door. Sensing her presence, the sconce next to the door ignited, causing it to open. Without command, the door sealed shut behind her after she entered.
She immediately went to work, making her way to the study table on the left side of the large, ornate room. She frantically rummaged through each drawer, the memory of which one it was failing her. Come on, come on! Where is it?! It has to be here! In the third drawer down, she finally saw it: an intricate four-sided black key.
BANG
The sound startled her. She turned to see the cellar door being thrashed inward, white light pulsing through its edges with each impact.
BANG
They were here.
“Lestrange! Open up, Lestrange!”
She snatched the key from the drawer and rushed to the end of the room, where a large shelf full of many different types of potions resided. She magically unsealed the hidden latch to the left, pushing the shelf aside to reveal a large safe embedded into the wall.
BANG BANG
She frantically placed the key into its lock and turned. With a click, the safe finally opened. Quite a few prized possessions were inside: bags of gold, ancient scrolls, property deeds—nothing of importance to her at the moment. She only needed one thing. Ah—there it was, right where she left it.
She very delicately pulled a single green vial from the back of the safe. Precisely what she was looking for.
BANG
She pulled the cork from the top as the door behind her thrashed, the hinges beginning to give way. She stared at the vial, hesitating. Was she really about to do this? This potion was supposed to be the ultimate gift to her Lord, to help him in his pursuit of immortality. It had taken hundreds of hours of research, rare resource gathering, and countless failed attempts just to create this one. And she still wasn’t a hundred percent sure of it. It still needed more trials. Not to mention, she had made it specifically for him. He was older than her, among so many other variables. She didn’t even know if it would have the same effect or—
BANG
“Damn it!” she didn’t have time.
'Just drink the damn thing! What’s the worst that could happen?!'
Well, it could kill her. Quite literally, wipe her out of existence.
'…Right.'
BANG
The large steel door split down the center, white light emanating from the cracks.
What other choice did she have? This potion, if it worked, was her only ticket out of Azkaban. She just knew it.
'Sod it!'
After one final huff, she gulped the concoction down in several large swallows. She gagged once it was gone, the taste perhaps the most bitter she had ever experienced.
She immediately felt off, placing one hand on a nearby table and the other on her stomach. She could feel her insides churning in ways she had never thought possible. It wasn’t entirely unbearable—at least not at first—
“GAAAAH!” She hunched over as a sharp pain struck abruptly, as if someone had shoved a knife into her gut and twisted.
BANG
Grunting, she tried to pull herself up, only to be doubled over again by another stabbing pain, this one even worse than the first.
Falling to her knees, she let out a guttural scream as the pain became unbearable, clutching her stomach. She could feel her body shrinking into itself. Every bone ached. Her flesh tightened, as if every fiber of her being was condensing—no—crushing into itself. Three decades of growth were now painfully being peeled away from her. Even her mind began to regress. She lost sight of awareness, memories, even purpose with each passing moment. Before long, the only feelings left inside her regressing mind were that she was lost, confused, and scared.
She was so scared.
With blurred vision, she looked at her palms, which were now smaller and still continuing to shrink. Looking up, the room seemed to grow larger around her. The last thing her mind could register before it all faded to black…
CRASH
The steel door split open with one final impact. Mad-Eye was the first to enter, wand at the ready as he scanned the room around him. In followed Emmeline Vance. After her, Remus Lupin and another Auror entered, both guarding the entrance. They examined the room, perplexed to find it devoid of any occupants yet showing no sign of another exit.
“Come out, Lestrange! I must say, I never thought the likes of you could slither away so cowardly!” Mad-Eye scoffed in an attempt to get Bellatrix to show herself. Also because he enjoyed it.
Still no response. Nothing.
“Where could she have gone?” Emmeline asked from close behind Mad-Eye. “Revelio!” she cast the charm, but to no avail. There were no hidden pathways. “…That isn’t possible!”
“She has to be here somewhere! Tell the men to keep a tight perimeter around the manor and search every possib—”
A sudden cry startled them both. Mad-Eye pointed his wand in the direction the wail had come from, which happened to be just a few meters in front of them on the ground. There lay a black cloak, much like the one Lestrange had been wearing during their pursuit of her. He hadn’t noticed the mass of clothing until now. Nonetheless, there was no mistaking the sound coming from it, which only baffled them further.
“…Is that…?”
“Can’t be,” Mad-Eye grunted as the crying continued. “Has to be a trick!” he declared, raising his wand at the mass of clothing.
“No!” Emmeline exclaimed as she grabbed Moody’s wand arm and forced it down. “You can’t be certain of that yet, Alastor! If it isn’t a trick, think of what you almost just did!”
Moody grunted in frustration, pulling his arm free from her grasp.
Emmeline then turned her attention back to the small crying figure on the floor. She proceeded slowly toward it, wand held in front of her but not directly pointed at the bundle.
“Careful!” Lupin called from the doorway.
“Rolland! Stand watch at the top! Make sure no one else enters this cellar!” Moody commanded the Auror next to Lupin.
“Yes, sir!” the man obeyed, promptly leaving the three of them.
Emmeline tentatively knelt down and reached for the cloak as the wails softened into small cries. With a shaky hand, she swiftly lifted the cloak’s hood, slightly reeling back.
Mad-Eye and Remus waited tensely, wands at the ready. Emmeline visibly relaxed at what she saw, causing Remus to do the same as he let out a breath of relief. Mad-Eye, however, remained guarded, his eye squinting with suspicion.
Emmeline proceeded to reach for the small bundle, whose cries picked back up after the hood was pulled away.
“Shh, shh, shh. There, there,” she spoke gently.
Taking the bundle into her arms, she turned to the pair and made her way back.
“Stop!” Moody commanded, causing Emmeline to halt just before reaching them. “Let us see it!”
She shot him a look before gently pulling the hood away from the bundle in her arms, revealing a small head.
The first thing Alastor noted was a pale face with plump lips and chubby cheeks. Big dark eyes stared up at him through furrowed brows, as if annoyed by the light... or perhaps by him. Then he noticed the unruly mass of lush black hair, only a few inches long.
There was no denying who this looked like.
“Merlin’s beard...” Remus said in astonishment from behind him. “Is that... who I think it is?”
“I’m afraid so,” Emmeline replied.
“That’s impossible!” Mad-Eye exclaimed, causing the child to cry once more.
“Who else could it be, Alastor? Her secret daughter the world has never heard of?” Emmeline reasoned, attempting to coo the baby again.
“That’s certainly more believable than the former!”
Remus walked past them as they argued, making his way toward a small object on the ground that had caught his eye.
“Then think of this. We all tracked Bellatrix’s signature directly into this cellar, and look!” she said, gently placing her wand tip against the baby’s body. The wand gave off a faint glow, indicating that they had found their target. “How else do you explain this? Not to mention, these are Lestrange’s clothes and her wand!”
“Over here!”
They both turned toward Remus.
He picked up an empty vial from the floor, gave it a cautious sniff, and then showed it to them, astonishment written across his face.
“Unfathomable! An age-reversing potion! Can you believe this? I’ve only ever heard of such a concoction as a myth!”
“Apparently not,” Emmeline quipped, turning to the bundle in her arms. “You clever devil,” she said disbelievingly to the baby, who only chuckled at her.
“Do you think the effect is permanent?” Remus asked, walking back over to them, never taking his eyes off the infant.
“I couldn’t say. I don’t think anyone could, honestly.” Emmeline turned back to Moody. “Do you believe it now, Alastor?”
Mad-Eye glared at the infant before answering.
“Very well,” he conceded.
He then raised his wand, pointing it directly at Bellatrix.
“Moody!” Remus exclaimed, attempting to step in front of Emmeline, who instinctively moved to shield the infant.
“What is wrong with you? She’s a child!” Emmeline snapped.
“That child is still Bellatrix Lestrange! A wanted Death Eater! We must still take precautions! The first will be Legilimency. If there’s even a sliver of the old Bellatrix still in there, we will act accordingly! Am I understood?!”
Emmeline wanted to protest, but she knew when not to antagonize Mad-Eye. Besides, she supposed he had a point. It was still Bellatrix.
She also didn’t believe her mind would be capable of real malice or retaining adult memories. She had her past in Muggle Studies to thank for that theory.
After a moment, she gave him a hesitant nod and held the baby out.
Alastor raised his wand once again.
“Legilimens!”
He probed the child’s mind while the other two looked on, a bit tense after the extended silence. Mad-Eye focused hard, leaving no stone unturned.
“…There doesn’t seem to be much in here.”
“Of course not. She’s a baby!”
“Yes. No sign of Lestrange’s old memories or motives. She’s just... a bit scared. And hungry. And—”
He broke off, looking back at the child, who continued to stare at him with pure distaste.
She couldn’t formulate thoughts all that well yet, but he could certainly feel them.
“I don’t like your face either, you living porcelain doll!” he shot back, sticking his tongue out at her.
“Alright, that’s quite enough.”
Emmeline pulled the child back. Alastor retracted the spell, letting out an exasperated sigh.
“This... is beyond my pay grade.”
“I’ll say,” Lupin concurred, running a hand through his hair. “Where exactly do we go from here? Do we shackle her? I suppose we can shrink them down to—”
“You most certainly will not!” Emmeline commanded. “We can’t just ship a baby girl off to Azkaban!”
“Not even Bellatrix Lestrange?” he asked, half-serious.
Vance shot him a scowl, and he immediately backed away with his hands raised.
“We have to tell Dumbledore. He’ll know what to do. Perhaps he knows a way to revert her back to her proper age.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“You’d better hope he doesn’t, for your own sake, Lestrange. You may have weaseled your way out of Azkaban for the moment, but mark my words—you will pay for your crimes. One way or another!”
“Honestly, Moody, threatening an infant? Do you like being called Mad-Eye?” said Remus.
December 21, 1981
Narcissa Malfoy was somewhat surprised when she received word of a visitor at her home of Malfoy manor. They hardly ever had visitors since the war ended. Due to her husband’s recent legal troubles, they were quite the societal outcasts at the moment. Everything from being closely affiliated with You-Know-Who, to pleading complete innocence, claiming to have been under the influence of the Imperious curse the entire time. Bafflingly, The Ministry bought the excuse, thanks in part to the Malfoy family’s influence and connections within their department. That didn’t stop others from having their suspicions. How could they not, given the obvious corruption still seeded within the Ministry. Not that she was complaining however. She still had her family intact. It was the only thing that mattered to her now, after losing so much in the war. After Losing Bella…
Back to the matter at hand, word of this surprise visitor started when the house elf, dobby, apparated behind her in the nursery room.
“Mistress Malfoy.”
“Yes, Dobby?” Narcissa asked, tending to little Draco in his crib.
“Dobby wishes to inform the mistress, Albus Dumbledore is here to see her.”
She whipped around to Dobby, eyes wide with shock.
“What?!”
Dobby flinched at her tone.
“S-sir Albus Dumbledore is at the front gate. He wishes to see the Mistress Malfoy!”
“The Albus Dumbledore is at my front gate?” she demanded him to clarify.
“Y-yes mistress. Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. Dobby will make him leave if the mistress wishes not to see him!” he said frantically.
Narcissa placed a hand on the crib for support, feeling a bit light headed from the shock. Fear washed over her for a moment, thinking the worst of such a visit. She knew however, that someone as seemingly altruistic as Dumbledore would not harm her at her own home. He had a reputation to uphold.
“No… No that’s alright Dobby I—“ she paused, straightening herself up with a deep breath. “Escort Dumbledore to the door. Inform him that I’ll be with him shortly.”
“Yes, mistress! Right away, mistress!” Dobby obeyed, disappearing with a snap.
“Nucky!” Narcissa called out. Another house elf appeared instantly.
“Yes, Mistress!”
“Look after Draco while I tend to the guest,” she commanded, making her way for the door.
“Of course, Mistress!”
Narcissa opened the front door to a most peculiar sight. There stood Dumbledore, robes, kind smile and all—the last person she’d ever thought to pay her a visit—carrying what clearly seemed to be an infant in his arms. The child’s face was obscured by the dark blanket they were wrapped in but she could hear the soft coos escaping their mouth. She couldn’t even remotely guess what the circumstances of this visit was. She half considered that she was losing her mind. She stood speechless a moment too long so Dumbledore finally spoke up.
“Good evening, Mrs. Malfoy. I do apologize for intruding at such a late hour but I assure you, this is no casual visit. I’m afraid The Ministry has a… delicate situation on their hands. One that requires the utmost discretion and help that I believe only you can provide.”
“I’m guessing that situation would be the infant you have in your arms at this very moment?” Narcissa asked sarcastically.
“You would guess right, Madam. May we come in? It is bitterly cold tonight.”
Narcissa hesitated to say yes. Surely this was some sort of trick! What could she possibly have to offer in regards to this baby? She had no relatives around this age so it couldn’t possibly be of any concern to her. She knew, however, that Dumbledore would not come to her with such a thing unless there was a connection between her and the child.
Her intrigue got the best of her, standing aside and wordlessly welcoming Dumbledore into the manor.
They made their way to the main chamber. Narcissa took a seat in the middle of her large black leather couch, opposite where Dumbledore stood, still carrying the child. She didn’t offer him to sit, didn’t want him feeling too welcome after everything he’s done to her family.
“I presume Mr. Malfoy is out at the moment?”
“He’s working late,” Narcissa nodded.
“That’s a relief. Now there will be no need to obliviate him.”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean no offence Mrs. Malfoy but I wasn’t exaggerating that discretion is of the utmost importance. It Is imperative that you keep what I’m about to reveal to you, a secret.”
“I’ll make no such promise. You can’t possibly expect me to swear secrecy to something before even telling me what it is!”
“That’s no issue. I’m quite confident that after I tell you who this little one is, you will keep her real identity to your grave, for her own safety.”
“Enough being cryptic. Just who is this child, Dumbledore?! What relation could she possibly have to me?!”
“The most immediate relation, I’m afraid.”
“What do you mean, immediate? As in… immediate… family?”
Dumbledore gave her a knowing smile, making his way over and pulling the blanket from the child’s face.
Narcissa met the child’s gaze. Big adorable dark eyes stared back at her, slightly obscured by curly black bangs. Her shapely lips curled into an almost toothless smile, beaming as if she already knew the Malfoy matriarch. ‘Pale skin as well. You’re most certainly a Black. But whose could you possibly… you look so much like…’ The more Narcissa stared, the more familiar the face became, until eventually, the resemblance was uncanny. It was as if she were staring directly into the future. Her mind began prophesizing the exact placement in each and every detail of the child’s would-be face, a premonition that can only be possible from growing up alongside that very same face. She no longer knew who this child looked like. She knew exactly who this was.
“Bella!” Narcissa gasped, surging forward and prying her sister from Dumbledore’s arms. She continued to stare, mouth agape as Bella laughed and pulled at her hair. She looked back up at Dumbledore. He gave an affirming nod, the grin never leaving his face, as if he were happy to see the reunion himself. She looked back down at the elated child who continued to twirl the hair in her tiny hand. Narcissa remained speechless as a wave of emotions hit her all at once and tears began rolling down her cheeks. It wasn’t until an involuntary sob tore its way from her mouth that she attempted to collect herself in front of the Headmaster.
“They said she died…” she weakly stated, never taking her eyes off of Bella. “fighting the Aurors… that she had been obliterated.”
“Yes, we decided it was best that the public believed she were dead. For obvious reasons, of course.”
“How… dare… you keep her from me for this long! I buried her! I MOURNED HER!” The Malfoy matriarch immediately regretted raising her voice when little Bella began to cry. She quickly hugged her close, cradling her head as she rocked her. “Shh shh shh, it’s okay… You’re okay… I’m sorry,” she spoke softly. “…I’m so sorry,” she desperately choked out as Bella began to calm. She found herself apologizing for so much in that moment. For believing Bella dead in the first place. For not seeking her out as much as she should have. For not finding out the truth soon enough.
“I’m truly sorry for that. It took some time to convince the others to agree with bringing her to you. Most of them suggested your sister, Andromeda, but this is what Bellatrix would have wanted. Despite our past differences, I’ve always known you to do right by your family. You’ll be a marvelous mother to her, I’m sure.”
Narcissa’s teary eyes widened at his words. “You’ll let me take her?”
“Under certain conditions, I’m afraid. I assure you, they are completely within reason.”
Narcissa nodded, completely understanding that there’d be caveats to agreeing to such an abnormal situation. Speaking of which…
“How… in Salazar’s name did this happen?” she finally asked once her shock had worn off. She was currently cradling her baby “big” sister in her arms. The preposterousness of the statement alone nearly made her scoff.
“Yes. I was hoping you’d shed some light on the circumstances. Bellatrix has always been a brilliant witch, perhaps the best I’ve ever seen, but she has… really outdone herself this time. The Aurors cornered her in Lestrange manor on the night it happened. In an act of desperation, I presume to avoid imprisonment, she took an age reversing potion.”
“A what?! An age reversing potion?!” Narcissa scoffed. “I didn’t know such a thing even existed!”
“It has. But the key ingredients needed to create such a rare concoction have long since been thought impossible to acquire, even for a family as powerful as house Lestrange. I honestly couldn’t fathom how she managed to obtain them, though I must say, I’m not entirely surprised,” He admitted, looking proudly down at Bellatrix, who let out an extended yawn. “As I said, she’s always been brilliant, absolutely driven to no end when she set her mind on something, ever since her first year at Hogwarts,” he said fondly before letting out a disappointed sigh. “It’s unfortunate that she chose the path she did. But I suppose now, this is her opportunity at a new life, one without The Dark Lords influence.” he lit up at the last sentence.
'Or without the years of abuse from our father,' Narcissa couldn’t help but think to herself. Bella was so focused on protecting her and Andromeda as children that she never even got the chance at a proper childhood. ‘I can give you that,’ she silently promised to the now sleeping child. ‘I can finally return the favor to you after all these years, Bella.’
“I presume the effects are irreversible?”
“I would never have taken her here if they weren’t.” He answered, as a matter of fact. She supposed she should appreciate his honesty.
“…You said there were conditions.”
“Ah, yes. The conditions are non-negotiable, I’m afraid. Simply terms needed to permit you guardianship of little Bella here. The first; she must never know of her past life or who she used to be.”
“You plan to change her identity?”
“Yes, and no, which is part of the second term. Changing her full identity would, in a sense, be impossible. No one can change the magical signature they were born with. She is still recognized as Bellatrix Black by the omniscient forces of the wizarding world. She still very much has access to her fortunes, titles and rights by birth.”
“Black? Not Lestrange?”
“She is completely expunged from her marriage to Rodolphus Lestrange. The unity was void the moment she no longer was of age. Even the magical seal of their marriage has been severed.”
“We can still change her name. Maybe not magically, but certainly legally.”
“There in lies the problem. If we legally change her name now, she will most likely see her real name in her magical signature at some point in the future. How would you explain that to her, when the time comes?”
Narcissa said nothing. She would be completely stumped for an explanation to Bellatrix, who has always been an inquisitive soul. She would undoubtedly discover this secret before she were even in her teens. Narcissa was impressed and somewhat relieved that Dumbledore seems to have thought of every contingency.
“If she can’t know who she truly is and we can’t change her name, then what would you have me do?”
“We claim she is a Black that is named after the original Bellatrix.”
Narcissa scoffed at the suggestion.
“You can’t just make a member of the most prestigious pureblood house in all of London appear out of thin air, Dumbledore! There’d be far too many questions from the press! Far too much gossip! Someone is bound to question the legitimacy of her name!”
“There would be no questioning her blood, you know that. Just look at her. She is a Black, through and through. We only need them to know which Black she came from.”
“I’d claim her as my own if I could, but you know I can’t, for a number of reasons. She looks to be just around Draco’s age. Even if I said they were twins, too many people would not believe—“
“Involving you as her mother would involve Lucius, and Bellatrix is no Malfoy. Moreover, I do not trust him for obvious reasons. Only you can know the truth.”
“Fine. Then who will we say is her parents? I’m guessing you have someone specific in mind?”
“Sirius.”
Narcissa stared, dumbfounded. Surely, she did not hear him right.
“Come again?”
“Your cousin, Sirius Black. I’m sure you’re aware of what has become of him. He was arrested and sentenced to Askaban for murdering—“
“I know, but why Sirius?!”
“He’s the only surviving male heir to house Black. If Bellatrix is claimed to be his child, we would legitimize her as a Black without having to identify the mother. Two birds, one stone, as the muggles would say. Quite distasteful..”
“You want her to be a bastard?! Are you mad?! Do you have any idea the damage that would do to the Black family’s reputation?!”
“No more damage than has already been done. The Black family’s name is in shambles, you know it to be true, Mrs. Malfoy. The last surviving male heir is behind bars and their reputation has taken a massive blow after the fall of Voldemort. As for her being motherless; pureblood society has always been patriarchal. So long as the child carries the family name, they are a member of that family. Pureblood men have had children with unnamed mistresses ever since the forming of the sacred twenty-eight and many of those children have gone on to live fruitful lives. It’s hardly controversial, beyond petty gossip.”
“I would not have you sully my sisters name by making her the daughter of some no-name mistress!”
“Do you have a better suggestion?”
“…”
“Narcissa, this will keep Bella’s namesake intact! Let the people talk. It is all they will ever be able to do.”
“…Let’s say we agree to this. How in Salazar’s name am I to convince others to believe that Sirius would name his daughter after Bellatrix? They hated each other! Am I supposed to write it off as some sick ironic name for his bastard?!”
“Sirius was discovered to be a double agent for The Death Eaters, was he not?” Dumbledore asked rhetorically, Although Narcissa didn’t know that for certain. Lucius may have been part of the Death Eaters but she’s always steered clear of them and their plans. It simply wasn’t her place. When word of Sirius’ betrayal to Dumbledore had gotten out, she was just as shocked as everyone else. “…Besides, I have it on good authority that Sirius didn’t actually hate Bellatrix, did he?”
“…What are you talking about?”
“There were times when your cousin would confide in me. He once confessed to loving Bellatrix very much as a child. Dare I say, he even regretted that their paths had diverged.”
Narcissa was at a loss for words. During every one of Bella's tirades about Sirius, there was always a hidden sadness behind all that anger, like she were lashing out at him for abandoning them, not betraying them. Like it hurt her just to mention his name. That wound would be opened again when Andromeda left, causing her sadness to fester into pure hatred. She remembered now. They were close when Sirius was a boy. Bella would look after him. She taught him how to fly a broom, how to use Leviosa, even the secrets to her favorite pranks. It wasn’t until he was sorted into Gryffindor that they had started to drift apart. She doesn’t think Bella ever really got over how things ended between them.
“I suppose… there is some truth to that.”
“I have no joy in saying this, but Sirius’ sentencing gives you an opportunity. We can run with the story that he kept his daughter a secret from the public until he was arrested. Upon his own request, you would be named her legal guardian.”
“Gods, Dumbledore. You really thought this through, haven’t you?”
“The circumstances simply fell into place, as if fate were giving little Bella here, another chance.”
“Do you honestly expect me to believe that this is all for Bella’s wellbeing? You’d never plan something this elaborate unless you had something to gain from it! That’s what this is, isn’t it?! You wish to gain an asset you oh-so wish you had through the course of this war, in case The Dark Lord comes back! Don’t you?! Well I will not let you use her as your weapon! The same way he did! She wasted herself away serving one master and she will not do it again! Not even for you! She deserves to be happy!” Bella stirred in her arms but Narcissa managed to rock her back to sleep.
“…I see you’ve been told he may still be alive.”
Narcissa bit her tongue, immediately regretting her words. She let her emotions get the best of her and revealed what many former Death Eaters claim to know.
“This only confirms what I suspected, Mrs. Malfoy, you need not worry. Voldemort’s return is imminent. It isn’t a matter of how, but when. And when that day comes, I can only hope that Bellatrix will choose the right side this time around. You, as well.”
“She’ll have no part in your war!”
“If I wanted to groom Bellatrix as my ‘soldier’, I would not have brought her to you. Do you know why I did?”
“Because it’s what’s right!” she angrily replied, absolutely offended that he would even consider an alternative. She was her family!
“Precisely. It was simply the right thing to do. Bellatrix Lestrange is no more. She is Bellatrix Black, nothing more than an innocent child, unsullied by the actions of her past life. I want for her the same thing I want for every child; a good life.”
Narcissa took in the sentiment, wanting to believe it were true. Dumbledore had a point. He very well could have kept Bella a secret from her but he didn’t. He brought her to her, offering her guardianship. She had to admit, she was grateful. He was giving her sister a second chance at life, which is more than she can say for You-Know-Who. He’d capitalize on manipulating Bella without a second thought. She let out a exasperated sigh, the entire plan still seeming ridiculous to her.
“Alright. So to establish that I’m following you here; you want Bellatrix to be the bastard daughter of a convicted mass murderer and named after his cousin, another mass murderer, who just so happened to be The Dark Lords right hand?”
“I know, the public’s perception of her will not be kind. She may have a hard life—“
“That’s the understatement of the century—“
“But she would have a life!”
She glanced down to Bella’s peacefully sleeping face. He had her there. There was no avoiding the stigma of being related to either family but anyone in their right mind would prefer this to a lifetime in Askaban or the kiss. It was a testament to Bella’s brilliance that she managed to avoid both after everything she’s done. Besides, she knew Bella. She knew she would take the gossiping whispers about her in stride, turn it around on them and make them shove it where the sun didn’t shine. She’d thrive, no matter the path she took or how the world saw her. She was a fighter. Narcissa was so thankful that Draco now had someone this strong and loyal to look after him. He was going to need it.
“Before I agree to this Dumbledore, you must tell me, who else knows of this?”
“Besides the Minister of Magic, Just three others. Alastor Moody, Emmeline Vance and Remus Lupin. They were the three that found Bellatrix. They all understood the gravity of this discovery, which is why they came straight to me. You can trust them, Narcissa.”
“You expect me to trust Mad‐Eye? A man who’s put down countless dark wizards for sport and has made it a personal mission of his to bury my sister?”
“Alastor is, first and foremost, an honorable man. He would never betray my trust. I will admit, he strongly advised against letting Bellatrix go. He believes her to be pure evil, impossible to reform and warned me that she is bound to go right back to her dark ways. On principle, however, he would never take action against an innocent child, the same goes for Remus and Emmeline. They’ve all sworn not to tell a soul. I would trust them with my life.”
“…If anyone goes after her, I will kill them.” she threatened, looking up at Dumbledore, deadly serious.
“I’d expect nothing less from a loving mother. There will be no retaliation. You have my word.”
The promise was enough, for now. Narcissa looked back down at Bella who was still fast asleep, her mouth slightly agape as the smallest snores escaped it. She felt so overcome with joy at having her sister back that she felt the tears return. With a quivering smile, she gently pushed the curly bangs obscuring Bella’s face, aside. ‘Beautiful’ was the only word that came to mind.
“There is one more term, Mrs. Malfoy.”
“…And that is?”
“When the Dark Lord returns, you will do all you can to keep Bellatrix from joining his side once more.”
“That’s easy enough. I was planning on doing just that either way.”
“Then that settles it.”
“…Just like that? You'll just take my word for it?”
“Your word is all I need. Contrary to what you may believe, I hold it in quite high regard.”
Narcissa didn’t like how easy this was. What was he planning? What was he keeping from her?
“Not even going to suggest the unbreakable vow?”
“The unbreakable vow is unbecoming of me. I’ve done it once before, never again. It only leads to anguish. Just a cruel life binding contract founded on distrust. I’d much rather have faith in people.”
“You’re far too trusting Dumbledore. It’ll get you killed one day.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Perhaps I simply have faith that a mother will do right by her children."