Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

December 11th, 1979

It had been three days since Bellatrix had received the note, instructing her to meet the Dark Lord at Riddle Manor alone in three days' time at midnight. It had come by owl, not the usual choice for sending messages. Typically, if the Dark Lord wished to speak to her, or anyone else they were simply called to remain back after a meeting. This note had been handwritten, to her and only her. What could he want to speak to her about?

For three days, her head had reeled with the possibilities, some terrifying and others sending thrills of excitement through her. It had seemed time dragged, but now the clock was ticking nearer and her fingers trembled as she fastened her cloak and prepared to leave, Rodolphus still snoring in the bedroom up the stairs.

It had never been a question of keeping this to herself, the note would have been for both of them had this also concerned Rodolphus and she knew her husband would have a thousand objections to his wife meeting their Master, alone at night. Best he didn’t know anyway.

Stepping out the door, she hurries down the cobble pathway until she’s beyond the wards of the manor and apparates to Riddle Manor, landing outside of the gates. The gates were open, as was the front door so it was clear she was being expected and given permission to enter on her own rather than knock. Stepping across the threshold, her heart hammers in her chest, following the candlelight, down the corridor into the parlour, her breath catching to see the dark lord standing there at the fire, back to her as she entered.

“You wished to see me, My Lord?” She asked almost breathlessly.

Tom, having heard the witch enter, turns around, that familiar charming half-smirk on his face. 

“Ah, Bella. I had hoped you’d received my Owl, glad to see you have, do take a seat.” He gestures with his hand at the chair to her left, indicating for her to sit and she does so, slowly sinking into it, her gaze still fixed on the man in front of her.

Tom, strides over to where a bottle of whiskey and two glasses wait on a tray, pouring a generous amount into each and handing one to her, remaining standing himself.

Bellatrix takes the glass, but hesitates to take a sip quite yet, she wants to be sober to hear what he would say next.

“I have been thinking, we are accomplishing great feats, making strides towards a better, purer world. Some things we have already accomplished, such as our recent recruitment of Augustus Rookwood, he’s being sworn in as an Unspeakable next week. You’ve provided exemplary duelling training to those whose skills were..undesirable-” At the praise, her face flushes and she lowers her head. “And we have much more work to do, the ranks will expand and more and more witches and wizards will be proclaiming loyalty to me, not the Ministry which has let them down, time and time again. Why, they’ve just passed a policy which permits those of complete Muggle parentage to teach . Oh yes, the world needs our help Bella, the Ministry is on a path of complete ruination.” He finishes, looking expectantly over to the witch seated in front of him.

Bellatrix immediately jumps to attention. “Yes, yes of course My Lord, you are making excellent progress, people will be indebted to you forever for what you’re doing and as Lieutenant I promise we will accomplish more, much more. We will see this through to complete success, your appointment to Minister for Magic.” She assures him and Tom nods.

“I have many enemies now Bella, those who have been enamoured with the current Ministry so long, they cannot see the path of destruction they’ve been placed upon. There are hunting parties, searching for the identities of my dearly devoted Death Eaters, and once the name Lord Voldemort has reached every corner of the magical world, I too will be sought after, threats made, attempts carried out on my life. Which brings me to the reason I have called you here.” He pauses to sip from his glass.

Bellatrix meanwhile holds hers tighter, her knuckles white as she waits on bated breath, trying to make sense of what all he has said, about their progress, their cause, the dangers of the job, had to do with her, but he continues on and she remains silent having not been asked to speak yet.

“While I have little faith in anyone proving successful at any attempt made on my life, I am not so arrogant as to believe it is completely impossible. As such, I must take precautions, put in certain guarantees now, before the threats become real, to ensure should this unlikely scenario happen, all of my work and accomplishments, the end goal of a pure magical world, does not die with me. This cause is much bigger than a single wizard, and resting it all upon one individual makes it a weak one. A careless one. Do you understand what I mean Bella?” He asks, arching a dark brow at her and she opens her mouth, struggling to make a sound.

“I-I of course I understand, and solidifying a..continuation plan now rather than waiting is a brilliant move, My Lord.”

Was he asking what she thought he was? Someone to take over the cause should he die? Someone to ensure everything went accordingly if an Auror got in a lucky hit? Did he mean…her?

If her heart had been hammering before, she was certain it was about to bust her corset at this moment. Her dedication had not gone unnoticed. Her skills had been appreciated and now, despite what everyone had told her about a witch having no place in his ranks, he was asking her to be his…

She takes a sip to try and calm her nerves, her thought interrupted when he laughs dryly and replies.

“Well, these things take time Bella. About nine months or so.”

Bellatrix chokes on the whiskey she had just swallowed, coughing and putting the glass down on the side table, staring wide eyed at him. He laughs again, realizing the witch had not entirely grasped what he had been hinting at.

She coughs a few more times before answering. “A-Apologies my Lord, the revelation was a bit delayed. You want me to ensure your..legacy lives on by-”

“Providing me with an heir, yes Bella. A child of the most powerful blood. The Blacks are the most noble, and ancient family.” Without thinking, Bellatrix stands, drifting closer in almost a haze, but Tom continues. “There couldn’t have been a more clearer choice, your magical talent and your beauty combined with my power. Heir to both the Slytherin and Black bloodlines.”

Bellatrix couldn’t imagine a child more perfect, and she felt her face flush as she thought of what would have to happen between them for her to carry the heir of the Dark Lord. The man mistakes the blush for timidness.

“Ah, a bit nervous I see. Understandable. Here, I’ll pour you another glass.” As he moves to get the bottle, Bellatrix still feels like she’s in a trance, obediently draining the second glass, Tom having polished off his as well.

She’s feeling delightfully like she’s floating when Tom takes her hand, leading her to the door and following him up the staircase. 

He wanted her. He wanted her to carry his child. He’d chosen her. Her marriage be damned, he could have her. Keep her if he wanted. She’d move in here. Her thoughts run wild with fantasies of a little boy running through the halls, Christmases spent here, spending every night beside him, being woken with soft kisses and a view of that handsome face praising her in the morning light.

“Did you hear me Bella? Come lay down.” His voice breaks through her fantasies and with another furious flush, realizes she’s been led to his bedroom. The Dark Lord’s bedroom. He was already laying on the large bed and she’s quick to join him

“Apologies my lord.” She whispers, suddenly so unsure of what to do. Like she had been as a teenager. She had to remind herself she wasn’t anymore, she was a witch in her twenties and he was a man who had just asked her to bear his children. Like a wife.

“You need not do anything, just lay there and look beautiful.” He husks in her ear, helping to rearrange them so she’s on her back and he is above her, leaning in to kiss her lips.

For a moment, Bellatrix’ heart bursts, how often she’d dreamt of what it be like to kiss him and she enthusiastically returns it, but it feels.. off. His mouth wasn’t moving with hers, his tongue wasn’t trying to seek entrance. He was simply mashing his lips against hers with more force.

When she feels him hitch her skirt, she suddenly no longer cares that he isn’t kissing her properly. Usually men liked to undress her completely before diving under her skirt but perhaps her corset strings would take too long to unknot and it was past midnight already. No matter, she was too impatient anyway, the drink and the fantasies and being in his bed had left her eager to be claimed by him and her body had been only as eager to oblige, certain he was about to feel how wet her knickers already were. Would he comment? Rod liked to tease her about how quickly she got wet, would he?

But the Dark Lord remains quiet, mouth still smashed against hers. Bellatrix shivers as she feels him unbuckle his belt, pull her knickers to the side, groaning and whimpering as rather roughly plunges inside of her, his mouth muffling her noises.

“O-Oh, my lord I-”

“Quiet Bella, you don’t need to talk.” He interrupts and chides her and she swallows thickly, nodding obediently.

That was fine, some didn’t like talking or noises. She could be quiet. Maybe it was game, to see how much she could take before she couldn’t keep quiet anymore, she’d played those before. 

One particularly rough thrust has her hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging in as she bites her lip to keep her whimpers silent. 

He wasn’t doing anything but thrusting, his hands were beside her head, not cupping her breasts (although they were still clothed) or rubbing her clit or thigh or anything . She’s been told to stay silent so she can’t ask for anything, even though every part of her burns to be touched.

She opens her eyes, but he’s not looking at her either. He’s…staring ahead at the headboard. 

Too late, she’s starting to realize how foolish her earlier fantasies had been and she feels tears both from the physical pain of him jamming into her, and the hurt of letting herself be fucked like a whore, burn in her eyes but she can’t let them fall.

A few minutes later, Tom grunts and Bellatrix gasps as his seed spills into her, hoping that perhaps now that part had been secured he’d start to enjoy her, but instead he pulls out, letting her knickers snap back into place and leaving her softly panting, wide eyed and silent.

Tom buckles his trousers and runs a hand through his hair, beaming at her. “Well done Bella. Now, with some luck this encounter will result in your insemination, which means there’s a few…restrictions we should go over before you leave tonight.”

Oh, they were most certainly finished this now, he wanted to continue talking. Like this had been a business agreement that had just been signed and they needed to discuss the contract. Which she supposed wasn’t far off from what had happened. She sits up and smooths her curls.

“Restrictions? What sort of restrictions my lord?” She asks, feigning the same doe eyed expression she’d worn earlier, it seemed to placate him.

“Well Bella, as you know, a large factor in the success of what we have accomplished so far as in the secrecy. Unknown identities of my Death Eaters, unknown meeting locations. So, in order to ensure the success of the legacy, the Ministry cannot know that a child, my child, exists or they will surely seek to destroy it.” Tom answers and Bellatrix finds she can only nod in agreement, although she’s not sure how she’s meant to hide an entire child.

“As it so happens, you are already married with a husband who expects you to bear children. In fact, the rest of society expects you to produce a Lestrange heir do they not?” He asks with a smirk and Bellatrix feels her heart sink. She didn’t need him to expand further on what that meant.

“Of course, it makes perfect sense my lord. Everyone will believe the child to be my husband’s but they will of course, be of your blood. Thereby keeping the existence of your heir a secret while the child can grow and live close to you. I have no concerns that Rodolphus will understand and be only too honoured to raise-” Tom interrupts her with a furrowed brow, and shakes his head.

“Oh Bella, you don’t see the threat it poses were he to know. No my dear Bella, it is required that only myself and you know the true parentage of the child until such a future time when they will be required to reveal their identity. That is an order from your lord Bellatrix. You will tell no one of tonight. Should the pregnancy take, you will convince Rodolphus and everyone else that this is a Lestrange heir. Do you understand?” He asks, his eyes hardening with the severity of his command and Bellatrix nods slowly.

“Y-Yes my Lord. Understood.” She swallows thickly, feeling sick at the idea of lying about something like this not just to Rodolphus but everyone she knew but there was no room to argue or protest.

“Excellent. Now, you’d better be heading home before your husband notices your disappearance. Goodnight Bellatrix.” His tone is one of dismissal and she stands, bows her head and exits the room, trying not to run down the stairs, leaving her cloak behind as walks down the cobblestones, not pausing until Riddle Manor is far in the distance, finally falling to her knees and sobs.

She’d been used. The dark Lord didn’t care about her. He never had. She was a soldier to him. Someone to carry out his orders and plans obediently and efficiently. That’s all she ever was, and ever would be. She just happened to be a soldier with a cunt and a womb he needed.

She gasps for breath, the pebbles from the road digging into her knees and hands. 

Maybe the pregnancy wouldn’t take. What were the odds that one attempt would work? But then…what would it mean if it didn’t? Would she be punished? Would he try again and again until it worked? That thought nearly made her vomit, having to lay there again and again and endure that!

Gods, her body still ached for satisfaction, she couldn’t return home like this. She spends another few moments thinking over what to do next, but her mind is pretty set on her decision. She was already a whore tonight wasn’t she? She might as well make good on it and get some pleasure out of it. Without even standing, she’s apparated to a different Manor, pushing through the gates and scaling the ivy up on the wall to the Master bedroom window, blowing the lock off with her wand.

“Rab?” She calls into the darkness, climbing through the curtains. “Rab? Rabastan! Get up!” She hisses a bit louder, tugging the duvet off the sleeping form of Rabastan Lestrange.

-

Rabastan wakes with a startled shout as the covers are tugged from him so unceremoniously. He didn’t recall having company but the unmistakable voice of Bellatrix leaves him even more confused. Since when did sister-in-laws come crawling through windows in the dead of night?

“Bells?” He mumbles, glancing toward where he knows his wall clock to be but is unable to even make out its outline in the all encompassing darkness. “What is it? Who’s died?” He asks, tossing his legs over the side of the bed to stand, another startled noise escaping as the witch is suddenly very much in his lap.

“Listen—“ He starts, between one firm kiss and another, “—I’m not complaining,” Their affair has spanned decades so the act isn’t unwelcome nor unusual just unplanned. “,but this really couldn’t’ve waited until morning?” He grins playfully, nipping gently at her lower lip as he pulls away to give her a slightly quizzical look.

-

Bellatrix just giggles against his mouth, trying to keep him distracted so he asks fewer questions about why she was here in the middle of the night, settling into his lap and groaning at just how much better this felt. 

“Shush, I didn’t want to wait until morning. It was a surprise. Now, stop talking and start touching .” She whispers in his ear, hiking up her skirt to rock her hips into his, her blood was already thrumming and she knew it never took long to get him aroused either. She didn’t have the patience for games or teasing, in fact she’s trying to reach behind to pull open her corset ties. She wanted all of her own clothes off, not even a stocking did she want on this time.

-

He laughs as she does, noting the scent of whiskey on her breath and the taste of it on her tongue. Perhaps a late night at the bar. She was excellent at toeing the line between tipsy and drunk however when she tipped over that ledge he knew her to be insatiable.

“Well consider me very surprised. Is my front door broken?” He quips, already helping her with the ties. He works to rid her of it with practiced fingers while his lips trail adoringly down her neck. Porcelain teeth sink into her pulse, groaning softly as it thrums with familiar vigor.

Pulling her dress over her head he discards it to the side, his midnight caller cast in pale moonlight pouring in from the open window. “God, Bells..” He praises, her alabaster skin a sight he’d never tire of.

Firm hands slide up a taut torso, cupping ample breasts roughly before moving to her back and undoing the clasps of her bra. Once freed his mouth immediately seeks out a pale pink nipple, warm tongue coaxing it to a peak. He releases the abused bud with a soft ‘pop’, grinning up at the most beautiful witch he’d ever known.

“You need to wake me up like this more often.”

-

“Mm not broken, but that would have required you to get out of bed, and I quite want you in the bed.” She grins, groaning with each kiss and touch, her skin just about on fire and fighting to keep her hands occupied and not just take him on her own.

When her dress is pulled off, she lets out an exhale, arching her back and letting him admire her in the moonlight. This, this is what tonight was supposed to have been, Rabastan always looked at her like she was the reincarnation of a greek goddess and she revelled in it.

“Gods Rab..” She groans feeling his mouth on her nipple and hands on her breasts, pushing them further into his touch, all of her exposed pale skin, flushed pink.

“It can certainly be arranged, now boxers off Lestrange.” She moreso pants out her demand, all too aware that time was ticking by and her self control was unravelling second by second. All thoughts about what had previously happened have slipped her mind, drowning herself in everything Rabastan. 

“And do not stop, for anything.” She adds on.

-

It’s a treat to have her so exposed. Their usual rendezvous being stolen moments here and quick shags there. He feels spoiled beyond belief by whatever fate of the gods landed her in his lap tonight.

“Salazar, is that an order Lieutenant?” He’s only teasing, if anything her demands cause increased excitement. He leans forwards, giving her neglected nipple the same treatment as it’s pair, a twist of his wrist removing his clothes along with her remaining stockings.

Rabastan moans unrestrained as his hardened length brushes against her thighs, his hips flexing up with a soft grunt. He guides them back on the mattress, settling himself against the headboard, as she seems more than content in his lap, while his hand slips between them.

“You're soaked ..” He hisses, lining himself up with her entrance before guiding her hips down with his free hand. “ Fuck Bells -“ Rab groans, tipping his head back a moment to catch his breath and adjust to velvety walls that seemed to pulse around his cock. “Been thinking of me all night, yeah?”

Where Tom had kept his hands still and unoccupied, Rabastan wasted no time tweaking pert nipples between his fingers. Tugging and toying with pillowy breasts as he moves his hips up in one sharp movement.

-

Well perhaps after tonight she’ll make these midnight calls a more regular occurrence, she’s not sure why she hadn’t thought of this before. Here they could be alone, uninterrupted and as loud as they liked.

“Oh it most certainly is an order, Lestrange.” She grins, especially hearing him moan like that, shifting to get settled in his lap and closing her eyes with a soft moan of her own when his hands brush between her legs, her cheeks taking on a dark hue as he comments on how wet she was. A strangled moan coming from her lips when she feels Rabastan’s cock slip inside her. “Oh fuck Rab~”

Her hands grip his shoulders tightly, sinking her nails into his skin sharply, gasping and driving her hips down at the same moment he drives his up. “Fuuuck.” She groans, bouncing up and down and tilting her head back. 

“Yes, yes. Do. Not. Stop.”

-

As if she needs to instruct him to keep going. Emerald eyes roll as talon like nails sink into lightly freckled shoulders. “Harder, Bells. Make me bleed.” He manages through grit teeth, meeting each of her eager movements with his own.

Rabastan pants, a sharp shiver raking down his spine as his cock twitches against sensitive inner walls. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this Bells.” He pants, never passing up an opportunity to tell her how pretty she looked. “Bouncing on my cock like a good girl, my good girl.” Ever possessive, he always had been.

While his right hand continues its assault on swollen and abused tits, his left comes down to stroke at her pulsating clit. “Poor thing,” He patronizes, moaning low and needy as she sits flush in his lap a moment letting him rut up against her.

“Needs a bit of attention, don’t it?” It’s only half rhetorical as he loves to listen to her scramble for answers amidst her throes of pleasure. His hips snap up as he continues to stroke her clit.

-

Without hesitation Bellatrix drags her nails down his back, hopefully cutting the skin or at least leaving a welt, as he’d asked for, flushing and panting under his praise, wild curls flying behind her and half in her face, all but squealing as his hand meet her desperate clit.

“Yes!” She hisses out, usually she wouldn’t be so eager at the start but the room was already spinning, his attention to her pulsating clit driving her higher towards her end, the one she’d sought for almost an hour now.

“Rab-Fuck! I’m so close, keep going!” Every muscle below tensing in anticipation of the high she was about to hit.

-

Rab growls, feeling sharp nails creating divots in his back. His right hand comes up from her breasts to tangle into inky curls, tugging her head forwards.

“Look at me.” He demands (pleads?), her muscles clenching and making it progressively more difficult to thrust into her. He settles for rocking his hips up each time she comes crashing down.

His left hand continues to toy with her swollen clit, dragging the pad of his thumb in quick circles as she always begs for. “ Good girl ..” Rab breathes through a groan, his own head tilting back a moment but quickly coming back up. He wanted to watch her come undone.

-

Onyx eyes lock onto emerald, her movements becoming a little less purposeful and just the praise alone is enough to finally send her over the edge. She calls out his name, twitching and writhing on top of his hips, as she rides out the waves of pleasure crashing over her. Eventually keeping her eyes open is too much a task. She closes them and tips her head back.

“Mm..Rab..” She whispers, the shock waves subsiding and she’s ready to keep going, ready to bring him to his finish too, when she remembers why she was here in the first place, and a very crucial bit of information pops back up. Without any warning she’s quite literally hopped off his cock, making herself and him groan in the process.

She couldn’t. Not this time. If there was even the slightest chance the child could be Rab’s (oh and what a thought that was) and not the Dark Lord’s, they’d both be killed where they stood the moment He suspected. Instead she sits back, mind whirling to try and come up with a quick lie.

-

Rabastan moans, tugging her in close to his chest as she shakes apart on top his hips. Her walls clenched in a way that has him seeing stars. Rocking his hips to help her cope with the aftershocks and continue bringing himself up that peak.

His cock throbs and twitches and once she’s semi caught her breath he’s chasing his own high. “Fuck- fuck.. ” He stutters, movements becoming erratic as he’s very nearly-almost- the—

“Fuck!” He groans as Bellatrix practically jumps off of him. “Bells, no, no, no I’m not finished..” Rab protests, emerald eyes shimmering with desperation and confusion. “Ow-Fuck Bells, please don’t make me beg..” The hand that had been previously occupied with Bellatrix’ clit now wrapped firmly around his twitching and straining length.

-

In a moment she’s found the solution and she smiles innocently at him, batting her eyes doe-ishly.

“I’m not going to make you beg promise, just want you in my mouth instead.” She replies and, before he can respond, shifts her position and quickly sets about bringing him back to his peak, her lips sliding effortlessly up and down his shaft, her eyes fixed on him, He loved when she looked at him after all.

-

The sound Rabastan emits as she states her intentions is utterly obscene, his head tipping back to rest against the headboard as he pants. Any disappointment previously felt quickly evaporates. This was just as good, maybe even better. “Yes, yes, oh fuck yes. Swallow my cock, that’s it, pretty girl.”

Heavily lidded green hues watch as she takes him into her mouth, almost whimpering as she moves. He throbs against her tongue, dizzy by the warm-wet- perfect suction of her talented mouth. He watches onyx eyes flicker gold and he can’t help but jerk up into her ministrations. Both hands tangle in unruly curls, guiding her movements and fucking into her mouth almost frantically chasing his release.

He feels the tip of her cock brush against the back of her throat and it’s enough to send him spiraling, coming with a strangled shout of her name.

-

Bellatrix almost wants to giggle at the sound, she had a feeling her mouth would make a suitable alternative for him. Obediently she bobs her head and uses her tongue to swirl around the tip before taking him in her mouth fully again. She groans when he grabs her hair, not hard but enough she feels the tension and it makes her eyes water.

Gods why can’t she have him like this all the time. Life wasn’t fair.

She tries not to choke when his cock brushes her throat, it was a bit deeper than she was used to taking him but she doesn’t have long to even consider anything further before he’s coming in her mouth and she’s greedily sucking down every drop, before pulling her mouth back with a ‘pop’.

She wants to stay, curl up and fall asleep with him but she knows rationally she can’t. That’s never a luxury they’re usually afforded anyway.

“Mm, I should head home. Rodolphus doesn’t know I’ve left and I don’t want him to come looking for me.” She comments, standing up from the bed, retrieving her clothes and redressing, realizing she’s left her cloak in the parlour of Riddle Manor.

-

“Fuck.” He pants, almost nodding at nothing. “Thank you.” He mumbles, relief evident in his tone.

Rabastan shudders and shakes, giving a drawn out groan when she finally pulls away. He frowns, trying to blink the world back into focus as she stands beginning to dress.

“You won’t stay?” He sounds disappointed, but ultimately knows both they don’t have time to spare, with the sun beginning to rise, and that, if her mind was made up, there was no changing it. “Tell him you’ll be away tonight. Not for more,” Though he won’t object. “I just want to hold you. Please?”

-

Bellatrix flicks her wand to repair the clothes he’d torn, bending over to lace her boots back up, considering the idea. It would be nice to just be held, even if she can’t tell him about her new… task from the dark lord, the comfort being in his arms would bring would be soothing.

“Perhaps, I’ll owl and let you know. Unless you’d prefer I come through the window again?” She grins, leaning over the bed and stealing a kiss. “Good night Rab.” She whispers and climbs back out the window and down the ivy.

Once her boots are on solid ground, she follows the path beyond the gates and apparates back to her Manor. Creeping back up the stairs and sliding into bed beside her still snoring husband.

At least there was one thing in her favour tonight. If the pregnancy did take, she didn’t need to sleep with her husband to make it believable. They’d already done that the morning before, and she didn’t intend on repeating it anytime soon.

With her hand on her stomach, she lets the exhaustion of the night drag her into sleep, hoping that maybe when she woke up, all of it will have just been some booze induced dream.

Chapter Text

April 13th, 1979

“I told you, I don’t need a Mediwitch Rodolphus and you’ve gone and owled for one anyway!” Bellatrix attempts to shout, but it's lost some of its bite when she’s curled up in the fetal position on the bed, the sour taste of vomit on her breath.

Rodolphus just stares at her, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “You’re impossible Bellatrix! You’ve been sick for weeks , you can hardly move, you need to be looked at! Why are you being so stubborn?” He asks. He knew his wife didn’t like to show weakness of any kind, especially illness but this was taking it to a concerning level.

Bellatrix attempts to sit up to continue arguing, but the room spins so she groans and resumes her position. “Because I’m fine . I told you, that elf likely gave me rancid meat or something.” She insists, even though she knows its a weak explanation at best.

Rodolphus snorts. “Well, I’ve already called for one, they’ll be here any minute and even if you kick and scream about it, they will examine you and check you haven’t caught Dragon Pox or something.”

Since arguing wasn’t making any progress, she opts to just huff and keep silent, ignoring her husband and wishing the bed would swallow her whole when the elf pops in to announce the Mediwitch was here, and a woman with dark hair and unnaturally blue eyes enters the bedroom.

“Good Afternoon Madame Lestrange, I’m Madam Abott. Your husband mentioned you’ve been ill for awhile now. Can you explain some of what you’ve been feeling to me?” She asks sweetly and waits patiently for Bellatrix to answer.

With some effort, Bellatrix props herself up on her elbows and sighs, evidently this woman wouldn’t go away until she answered.

“I apologize my husband has called you here unnecessarily, all it’s been is some vomiting, dizziness, and general aches and pains.” She answers, fixing Rodolophus with another glare.

The Mediwitch takes out a quill and makes some notes, nodding. “I see, those usually aren’t cause for concern but the longevity of these symptoms is quite unusual. Did they start before or after your last moon cycle?” She asks and Bellatrix feels her face turn pale and somehow red at the same time. Did Rodolphus really need to be in the room for this discussion?

“After. I visited my sister for dinner a few weeks ago, they’ve a new house elf and the meat was likely rancid.” She answers, trying to speed this examination along.

The Mediwitch ignores the comments about rancid meat, and just nods again. “And has your moon cycle made a reappearance since then?” She asks and Rodolphus suddenly looks very interested in inspecting the dust on the top of the wardrobe.

Bellatrix feels her stomach flip, no surely not. It was rancid meat or the flu or perhaps Dragon Pox, it couldn’t be what the Mediwitch was trying to insinuate it was. She had tried so hard the last few weeks to convince herself it couldn’t be true!

“No, no it hasn’t.” The witch answers quietly, sinking her teeth into her lower lip, afraid she may vomit directly on the other witch in a moment.

“I see, well Madame Lestrange given your age and your missing moon cycle, in combination with your persistent symptoms, it is my suspicion you might be pregnant. Is that a possibility?” She asks and Rodolphus’ head shoots up so fast, it was a wonder he hadn’t snapped his neck with the action.

The Mediwitch had said it. The word she hadn’t even allowed herself to think about for these last few weeks. She’s about to lie, to say no, that it wasn’t a possibility at all when Rodolphus beats her to the punch and enthusiastically responds.

“Yes, it is. We’ve been trying to conceive for several years now. You truly think she might be…having a baby?” He asks and Bellatrix hates how hopeful his voice sounds.

The Mediwitch nods at him. “Of course, I can’t be sure without a test but there isn’t another explanation for your wife’s continuous symptoms and missed cycle. Many women never know what to signs to look for, but illness like this is a good indicator.” The woman rummages around in her bag and pulls out a vial of a golden potion, uncorking the stopper. “Please drink this Madame Lestrange, once the potion has taken affect, I’ll be able to use my wand to detect for any signs of a baby.” She holds out the vial to her and Bellatrix forces a smile before drinking it.

This room felt too warm, and not just because she was ill. The Mediwitch was looking at her, expecting some sort of hopeful mother-to-be reaction to everything. Rodolphus just kept running his hands through his hair and tapping his foot. Bellatrix wanted to leave, wanted to be left alone but there was no more hiding or lying to herself. In a moment, that woman’s wand would confirm what she already knew deep down to be true. Knew everything would change and be set in motion the moment she did.

She’s instructed to lie down, flat as she can comfortably, and lift up her dress, the Mediwitch’s wand moving over her abdomen, mumbling a charm quietly until there’s a tiny, but very prominent pulse of light, the same shade as the potion she had drank. It pulses each time, the Mediwitch’s wand hovers over that particular area, like a heartbeat.

“Ah, there we are, Madame Lestrange. The potion and charm can detect even the smallest flickers of a new life. Congratulations, you’re pregnant.” She states and Bellatrix just stares wide eyed at the pulsating light, startling when Rodolphus throws his arms around her.

“Oh Bellatrix! A baby, a child, our child! An heir to the Lestrange line!” He exclaims and Bellatrix is certain she’s never heard such genuine joy and excitement from him in her life, it only makes the knot in her stomach tighten.

It wasn’t rancid meat.

It wasn’t the flu or Dragon pox.

It was an heir . Just not his.

July 23rd, 1979

After the initial bout of illness which had confirmed the pregnancy, the last few months had passed without incident. Bellatrix had been reassured the baby was growing normally and had been perfectly healthy, attending meetings, and going off on the missions as assigned. 

Then she hit her third trimester.

It was hell.

In the span of a few weeks, she understood why women hated being pregnant so much. Everything ached no matter how she sat or lay in the bed. Food that was usually her favourite turned her stomach, and combinations that made Rodolphus retch were the only ones she could keep down. Sleeping was near impossible as the little demon growing inside her liked to use her ribs as some sort of piano and her bladder as a large cushion. Her husband had quickly grown tired of her whining, her constant illness and restless tossing and turning and had, on more than one occasion banished her to his brother’s home for days at a time.

Which had suited her just fine, if she wasn’t sick she was needy and she’d rather Rabastan satiate her needs than her husband anyway. Rabastan had been an excellent source of comfort as well, made sure she ate, and drank water, held her when she cried, let her scream and break things if necessary, and never once complained. Never told her to shut up or that she was being overdramatic like Rodolphus did. It made her wish for the umpteenth time that this was Rab’s baby. That she was Rab’s wife.

Still, she tried not to let any of it show outside of Lestrange Manor, still fulfilling her duties as Lieutenant and carrying out any tasks that were asked of her. Including attending the meetings in rapt attention even though she felt like a beached whale.

That’s where she sat now, seated two chairs down from the Dark Lord as he explained their next target. Bellatrix knew it to be impossible, but she was certain she had doubled in size since the last meeting, feeling as if every set of eyes was trained on her and not their Master who was speaking. The larger she grew, so too did the anxiety within her. Lying about the baby when it was still inside her had been easier than she thought, the men had all taken Rodolphus out to a pub to celebrate him finally knocking her up.

It would be different when the baby was in her arms. Living proof that she hadn’t dreamt that night. What if the baby looked more like Tom than Rod? How was she meant to keep this a secret until the child was of age? Seventeen years of silence and lies and-

“Salazar..” She groans as she feels what could only be a foot connect with her ribs so hard it’s a wonder they didn’t break. She leans over, both hands on her now large baby bump, and clenches her eyes shut.

It’s only the silence in the room that alerts her she had expressed her discomfort aloud and she looks up, her face pink, the Dark Lord looking at her in amusement and annoyance . Shit.

“Would you care to take over the conversation Bellatrix?” He asks and she turns pinker yet, shaking her head quickly.

“N-No, my deepest apologies my lord.” She almost whispers, lowering her head and wishing she could disappear.

The meeting continues on, other men sneaking glances at Bellatrix, her face betraying the pain and discomfort she was suffering, physically swallowing back down the bile that tried to rise. This room was stifling with the summer heat, her corset was tied too tightly, and she was about to faint when the room has gone silent again.

“Bellatrix, do you have anything additional to add?” The Dark Lord asks and a chill of terror shoots down her spine. 

She hadn’t even heard what had been discussed, she was trying too hard not to vomit across the table and stay upright in her chair. Her face colours for the second time that day, her mouth trembling as it opens and closes, searching for words.

“I-I’m sorry my lord, I have nothing to add.” She whispers again and his dark eyes narrow at her.

“I see, remain seated Bellatrix. The rest of you may go.” He instructs and the sound of scraping chairs follows as the other members begin to file out the door.

Rodolphus hesitates in his chair a moment, as does Rabastan, but one look from their Master has them both slowly exiting as well, leaving Bellatrix alone at the large table. In case that wasn’t daunting enough, Tom stands and moves behind her.

“This is not like you Bellatrix, interrupting meetings, not paying attention.” He almost tsks at her and she lowers her head in defeat.

“I apologize my lord, it’s the baby. The pregnancy has left me quite ill. It won’t happen again.” She assures, hating that she can’t see him and if he chose to hex or curse her, she wouldn’t even see him draw his wand.

“No, it won’t. If you cannot handle the trials of pregnancy in a meeting, how are you to continue running the raids I’ve ordered you to carry out? If you become distracted by your pain and discomfort, what would stop an Order member or an Auror from getting in a lethal hit? No, this has become too dangerous for you to continue. You’ll put the plan at risk, and we will not fail when we are so close to success.” He pauses, walking away from her chair in thought.

“You are no longer fit for active duty Bellatrix, it is too risky to continue now. You will remain at home, under the watch of your husband and his brother until you give birth. You will not leave the Manor for any reason until then. Not to visit the Alleys, your sister or to attend these meetings. That is an order, do you understand Bellatrix?”

Bellatrix feels as if the floor has fallen out from under her chair. On house arrest for the next several months? Relieved of her position and duty? Her mouth opens and closes again, but makes no sound, instead nodding slowly. 

“Y-Yes my Lord. I understand. I will follow your orders.” Her fingernails dig into the sides of her skirt.

Tom takes her reluctant answer and nods. “Good, your husband will no doubt thank me for being so thoughtful and understanding of his wife’s condition . You are dismissed Bellatrix.” He says and the witch gets shakily to her feet, waddling towards the door, eyes burning with unshed tears.

Forbidden to leave her house.

Until the birth.

Just hours before September 19th, 1979

“Just keep breathing Madame Lestrange, you’re doing wonderfully.” The Mediwitch comments, while Bellatrix’ grip on the sheets under her tighten feeling like she was being torn apart from the inside.

All weekend had been a waiting game, knowing her due date had come and gone and the baby could be coming at any moment. She hadn’t expected her water to break while seated in parlour enjoying her afternoon tea. Everything beyond that was a blur of pain. Rodolphus panicking and owling his brother, a Mediwitch, and his mother all at once, while she hauled herself up the stairs to their bedroom. The Mediwitch had arrived and gotten Bellatrix comfortable for what would be another nine hours of painful labour. No wonder her mother had hated her, this was torture and she had quite literally been tortured many times before. The Cruciatus Curse would be nothing if she survived this.

Rodolphus was pacing the study down the stairs. He had no interest in witnessing his wife in such a state, her legs splayed and propped up, flushed and screaming in pain. He would wait until the second Mediwitch came to fetch him when the child had arrived and was cleaned.

The clock chimes the midnight hour, and still all Bellatrix can do is keep breathing and screaming and clutching sheets like a lifeline.

“Right then, it's time to start pushing. Hard as you can on three, ready? One, two, three.” The Mediwitch instructs and Bellatrix grits her teeth following the instructions and her body seems to know how to push until she’s quite literally breathless and stops.

“Good, good. Again.” She encourages and this time Bellatrix screams out as she does, mentally cursing Rodolphus, and the Dark Lord, and every man in existence for making women go through this.

“I-I can’t anymore!” She pants after the second push, her face stained with dried and fresh tears.

“Just one more love, hardest you can and don’t stop.” The Mediwitch encourages again and with strength Bellatrix didn’t think she had, screaming out she goes again and this time as she collapses back into her pillows she hears a baby’s wail and she knows she’s done it.

“Congratulations Bellatrix, she's a beautiful baby girl. Ruth, go and fetch Master Lestrange won’t you?” She asks, the second Mediwitch who dashes off while Bellatrix lays there trying to catch her breath. Her entire body protests a single movement.

She doesn’t have long to even process the fact it's a girl and not a boy, when a very pink and wriggling bundle is placed into her arms and she gazes down at her daughter. She had dark eyes and even the wispy bits of hair on her head had a curl to them. She sniffles, adjusting her arms to hold her properly.

“Hello little one. Salazar, you’re beautiful.” Her voice breaks and her heart swells. She's certain she has never seen a more beautiful baby in her whole life and is just astounded that she made her. She was so tiny, the infant grabbing onto Bellatrix’s finger with a whole hand and her eyes well up. Rodolphus and likely the Dark Lord would be upset it hadn’t been a boy, but Bellatrix no longer cares. She’s known this child all of seven seconds and she loves her, even if no one else wants her, Bellatrix does.

The door to the bedroom creaks open and Bellatrix looks up from the baby to see her husband’s scowling face in the doorway.

“All that and it's a useless girl. I should have known.” He sneers and Bellatrix just inhales sharply.

“She’s not useless, she’s beautiful. Come and see her, Rod.” She says, slowly rocking the tiny bundle in her arms.

Rod rolls his eyes and walks over to the bed, addressing the Mediwitches. “And you’re certain it's not a boy and you’ve looked at it wrong? We were expecting a boy.” 

“Master Lestrange, there’s no way to tell the sex of a baby before it’s born. You have a perfectly, happy, healthy baby girl.” She encourages while Bellatrix coos at the tiny one.

“You ignore him, you’re perfect. He’s just being grouchy. You’re a lovely little Lestrange.” She’s choosing to ignore her husband until he stops sulking and focuses on the little girl instead. Rodolphus crosses his arms, standing beside the bed, looking over. His cloudy expression near instantly melts away when those tiny dark eyes meet his.

“Oh, she looks like you.” He comments and Bellatrix smiles just a little despite herself.

“She does, doesn’t she? A little witch. Those curls will come in no time.” She comments, playing with the wispy strands around the little one’s temples.

Carefully so as not to jostle his wife or the newborn, Rodolphus sits on the edge of the bed, shifting a bit closer. “Well, you’re not a boy, but you’re beautiful like your mother. Hello little Lestrange.” He says and Bellatrix is relieved he doesn’t seem to be angry, so much as just disappointed.

Unfortunately, she can’t be sure the Dark Lord will be as understanding. He had never explicitly said he wanted a boy, he seemed at times to be the only one who truly thought a witch was worth as much as a wizard. Would he want a girl? What if he killed her and made her try again until it was a boy? She’d be just like her mother. Forcibly carrying girls in the hope one of them would turn out to be the boy they wanted. The thought makes her blood run cold and hold the infant just a bit closer to her chest. No, no. She just brought this baby into the world, she wouldn’t lose her. Not ever. She’d run away with her if she had to, to keep her safe. Maybe he wouldn’t care. He had just wanted someone who could take over if he died, someone of his and her bloodlines. Surely this little girl could be that. She was perfect, he had to like her.

“Do we have a name for the birth certificate?” The Mediwitch by the name of Ruth asked, having already written in the date and time of birth, September 19th 1979, 12:15am.

Oh. A Name. She’d completely forgotten through the whole pregnancy about names and of course the only ones Rodolphus had thought of had been for a boy. This girl was too beautiful to be given such a rough name, it needed to be as sweet and tender as she was.

Rodolphus looked as confused about a name as she did, at least he too, agreed this child couldn’t be named Rodolphus Jr. Suddenly, Bellatrix remembers a name from her old latin lessons, one she’d tried to get her mother to change Cissy’s to because she liked it better.

“What about Rosalind? We could call her Rosy or Rose. She’s beautiful but no doubt has hidden thorns being a Lestrange. Strength, magic, trickery. Perfect little snake.” Bellatrix asks, looking at Rodolphus hopefully who stares at the infant a moment.

“Rosalind Lestrange.” He repeats and the newborn gurgles in response. “She seems to like it, I think it fits.” He nods and the Mediwitch scrawls out the name on the certificate.

“Welcome to the world, Rosalind Lestrange.” Bellatrix whispers with a smile.

September 27th, 1979

It had been over a week since Rosalind, now affectionately nicknamed Rosy, had been born and Bellatrix was still adjusting to being a mother and having another person who depended on her for everything. A time that should have been filled with joy, was clouded over by the growing anxiety of what happened next.

The Dark Lord had not specified what happened after the child was born. She had assumed she would be raising the girl with Rodolphus until he decided he needed her but there was a nagging fear that he may just show up in the next day or so and decide to take Rosy for himself.

She was sitting giving Rosy a bottle, when the elf popped into the parlour to announce that Master Riddle was here. Bellatrix’ heart leapt into her throat. He was here. In case he was here to take her away, she held tighter to Rosalind, eyes drinking in every tiny feature on her face as she heard her Master’s robes sweep along the floor and the door click shut behind him. 

Bellatrix dutifully raises her gaze, nodding her head in acknowledgement. “Apologies my lord, I would stand to greet you but-” He holds up a hand to stop her.

“No need Bellatrix, I can see you’re quite occupied and assume you are still in the process of healing from the birth.” He says and Bellatrix thinks she can sense almost a hint of care in his voice and she nods so he continues. “I’ve come to witness the success of your task.” He says and Bellatrix looks down at the infant in her arms swallowing thickly.

“My Lord, this is Rosalind. Your daughter.” She states, afraid to make eye contact in case she saw anger, or saw his wand come out, subconsciously leaning a bit closer to shield the baby with her body.

Tom takes a few steps closer, scanning over the baby’s face and small body before nodding. “She looks to be in excellent health. Assuming you continue to raise her properly, she’ll turn into a proper witch.” He states, keeping his hands behind his back. Evidently he had no desire to hold her.

“Yes, of course she will. I’m sure you were hoping for a male heir, but I know that Rosalind will-” His hand comes up to silence the witch again.

“Bellatrix, what care do I have of the child’s sex? You were tasked to produce an heir and that is what you have done. A child is a child. Your blood and mine run in her veins. With proper training and teaching she will prove powerful and talented. The same restrictions apply moving forward. Raise her, and ensure everyone believes her to be the result of your and Rodolphus’ union.” He begins walking away and Bellatrix is left speechless on the sofa.

He didn’t…care? He seemed pleased with her and thought Rosy a suitable heir. He wasn’t going to take her away either, she got to keep her. Raise her. Continue the charade of her being Rod’s.

“I will grant you an additional four weeks leave from your duties and position Bellatrix, to ensure your healing is effective, and complete, and the child is properly looked after. After that, I expect you to come when I call. You’ve lost time to make up for. Until then, keep the child alive.” He instructs and Bellatrix can only nod wide eyed as he makes his exit.

Only once the door shuts behind him, does she let out the breath she had been holding since Rosy had been born. Turning her attention back towards the little one in her arms, setting the bottle down with trembling fingers.

“Well Rosy, looks like it's you and me for a while.” She whispers, kissing the girl’s head sweetly.

Chapter Text

August 8th, 1980

The almost first year of Rosy’s life had seemingly raced by for Bellatrix. She had quickly outgrown the newborn stage, she was no longer tiny enough to fit in her arms, a realization that had made her both proud and sad. Though no longer tiny, the way she was starting to resemble Bellatrix was startling and heartwarming all at once. Hints of the strong jaw beneath the baby fat in her cheeks, wispy curls that were trying to form into tight corkscrews and just a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose. A miniature Bellatrix in the making.

After that initial visit, the Dark Lord never asked about the child, never visited and that suited Bellatrix just fine, there was enough to keep track of without adding in his scrutinizing visits. Her sister was busy in the newborn stage now. Her son Draco had been born only a couple months ago. While Bellatrix was currently absorbed in helping the littlest Lestrange reach all of the important milestones. Like walking.

Rosy had already become quite good at crawling, and had even started pulling herself up on furniture, but had yet to toddle even a step on her own.

“Come on Rosy, come to Mama, wouldn’t you like to surprise Uncle Rab and show him what you can do?” She asks, holding her arms out a few feet from where she sat from the girl, waiting. 

-

Rosy stands, tiny hands clung to the couch cushion, staring with wide brown eyes looking at her Mama. She had been carefully teetering the line between infant and toddler. With a growing sense of independence, which showed in how she insisted on feeding herself or holding her bottle, and an adorable need for security and reassurance Rosy seemed in no rush to meet this particular milestone anytime soon.

“Mm.” Rosy coos, bending her legs to crouch and straightening them to stand again, but makes no effort to release the furniture and walk.

-

Bellatrix sighs and shakes her head, almost giggling at the girl. “No, no we’re not trying to jump. This is much easier, keeping both feet on the ground. Look, watch Mama.” She gets to her feet and walks just a few steps towards the little brunette. “See! Now, you try.”

Bellatrix returns to where she was sitting before and puts her arms out. “Look, Mama will catch you. You can do it.” She looks around and grins, picking up a dragon plush and waving it towards her.

“Look, come get your dragon Rosy!” She makes the wings flap a little with a quick spell, making it hover midair. 

-

Rosy reaches out a pudgy arm, grabbing hold of her Mama’s skirt as she steps close enough. She gives a panicked exhale as Bellatrix goes to sit back down, quickly returning to gripping the couch.

She smiles as Bellatrix does, gurgling and grasping at the air with one hand as the stuffed dragon flaps its wings. Her brow furrows as she realizes it’s too far to reach, grunting indignantly before dropping to her knees and quickly crawling into Mama’s outstretched arms.

Tugging herself up using Mama’s sleeve, Rosy stands on her toes, squawking as the dragon is too high to reach.

-

For a moment Bellatrix thinks, perhaps the desire to reach the dragon will result in her walking on her own without thinking about it but she’s proven wrong as she crawls over instead, standing on tiptoes to try and reach the floating dragon.

“Aww, is he flying too high for you?” She laughs and scoops the girl into her arms. “Now, look here, little miss. I know you can do lovely crawling, but I’d really like for you to try and walk. Here, come and walk with Mama.”

She places the girl back on her feet, standing up, while still holding onto her hands. “See? You can balance without the sofa helping. Now..Mama’s going to let go and you just take two steps to come back alright?” Gradually she lets go of the tiny hands and watches.

-

Rosy squeals as she’s scooped up, wriggling and giggling as Mama gives her a pep talk. Not that she comprehends the words, only the tone.

She takes a step, and then two, gripping Bella’s fingertips with all her little strength. Her foot lifts to take another when Mama’s pulling away. She immediately puts her foot back down and freezes in place, left standing halfway between the couch and her Mama.

The toddler glances between one and the other, little legs trembling, her arms outstretched to each side for balance. For a moment it looks as though she’ll try, glancing back to Bellatrix and suddenly grinning.

Rosy puts both hands on the ground, her bottom in the air, and quickly bear crawls back to Bellatrix. 

-

“Good girl.” Bellatrix praises as she takes a few steps holding onto her, proof that the little one knew the actions to do it on her own, stepping back and watching the toddler contemplate the situation while she stands on her own.

“Go on, you can do it. Just two steps back to Mama.” Bellatrix encourages, her heart leaping when it looks like she’ll try. Nodding again.

“Come on Rosy, I know you can do-” Bellatrix sighs and shakes her head in amusement when the toddler is in fact back in front of her but has done so by crawling like a bear. Scooping her up again in her arms.

“You are just the trickiest little snake, think I’m funny do you?” She asks, tickling her tummy and giggling. “Do you think it's funny? Huh?” She keeps tickling and giggling as she teases her.

-

Rosy roars with laughter trying in vain to push Mama’s hands away. It isn’t until she’s back on her feet that she’s really beginning to understand what’s being asked of her.

Oh. Alright. She can do it. …Maybe.

She stands, bending her knees and bouncing slightly, as if psyching herself up. “Mmh.” She coos, turning her head towards Mama and looking as if she’s trying to lift her leg. Her foot more so slides away from her than lifts and she lands on her bum with a grunt.

Frowning up at her Mama she slowly arranges her feet back underneath herself, and pushes back up to standing. Standing up for the first time without any assistance at all.

“Ah!” Rosy exclaims, little eyebrows halfway up her forehead, mouth dropped open in surprise.

-

Bellatrix loves the sound of her laughter and giggles, it was adorable, even if Rodolphus thought it was loud and irritating sometimes.

“You can do it.” She nods, watching with arms out, ready to catch her in case she falls forwards.

She doesn’t fall forwards and when she lands on her bum, Bellatrix anticipates the wail to follow but is intrigued when Rosy doesn’t cry but pushes herself up!

Bella’s hands clasp over her mouth, her eyes welling with tears as she watches her daughter stand up and stay standing all on her own.

“Yes, yes. Oh look at you Rosy! Oh what a clever girl!” She smiles, her arms outstretched towards the toddler who was quite precariously balanced on unsteady feet.

“Come on, come to Mama.” She encourages, sure that this time, Rosy can do it.

-

Rosy’s tongue pokes out of her mouth as her brow furrows with her concentration. Slowly, slowly, her right foot raises. And then is set back down.

Rosy energetically babbles something incoherent to her Mama but it’s crystal clear encouragement to herself. Her foot lifts once more and it shakily sets down again about an inch from where it had started. “Aah!” She repeats, with more force looking up from her feet to Mama and back down again.

Her left foot shuffles to close the gap and she quickly repeats the action. Scooting closer half an inch at a time. That is until her balance is thrown off, by what it isn’t truly clear, and she ends up leaning forwards much quicker than expected. Taking one, two, three stumbling steps before crashing into Mama’s legs.

She’s so taken aback this time she does wail. She hasn’t meant to do that!

-

Bellatrix watches, holding her breath a little but allowing the toddler to figure out the movement on her own and just patiently waits. It was adorable watching Rosy talk to herself in her baby babble.

When she sees the foot come up and then set down again a bit further away she smiles and nods, grinning widely, as the toddler inches closer and closer until, uh oh she loses her balance. Despite losing her balance though, she’s still taken several steps forwards and her Mama couldn’t be more proud.

As she lands in her lap, starting to wail Bellatrix holds her close, cooing softly. “Oh it’s alright my dove, look at you, you did it! Steps all on your own, I’m proud of you.” She rocks the girl slowly, trying to calm her down.

-

Rosy soothes easily, a tiny fist rubbing at bleary eyes. The words might not mean anything to her but the lilt of praise placates her. 

She did it, and Mama was happy she had.

Chapter Text

June 23rd, 1981

Bellatrix feels the wards around the manor shift and smiles to herself, only one other person could do that, since her and Rodolphus were already inside. 

“Rosy! Uncle Rab is here!” She calls, putting a ribbon on the page of the book she was reading and standing up to go and greet Rabastan at the door, snickering to herself as she hears two feet jump off the bed and pound down the corridor and the stairs.

“Careful on the stairs Rosy, you don’t want to fall again!” She calls, hearing a tiny huff as the toddler obliged the instruction for safety.

-

Rosy, now nearly two but not much taller than she’d been at one, was now steady on her feet, mostly, and just beginning to talk.

Mama, Papa, milk, had been words she’d used for a while now but slowly she started trying to sound out larger words. Attempting to mimic what Mama or Papa would say to her with some success. Though nothing near sentences quite yet.

She clutches the railing as she hurries, carefully , down the stairs, brown curls, which were proper ringlets now, bouncing with her every step. “Papa!” The toddler squeals happily as she reaches the last step, launching off of it and starting towards the door.

-

Bellatrix could not believe, Rosy was almost two. It felt like yesterday she had just found out she was pregnant with her at all. Now she’d grown into almost a whole child, full head of brown curls, walking and starting to talk. It was astounding.

Of course with all the new motion came new dangers and Rosy had already taken several pretty severe tumbles and scrapes; the stairs, the garden bushes, and bumping head first into furniture.

As she walks to the door, she listens and keeps one eye on the toddler, ready to cast a spell and catch her at a moment’s notice.

Hearing his name, Rodolphus pokes his head out of his study with a quizzical look.

“Someone looking for me?” He asked

Bellatrix tries to redirect Rosy towards Rodolphus. “Yes, yes. I’m sure Papa is excited Uncle Rab is here too. Shall we all go greet him together?” She asks.

-

Rosy’s brow furrows slightly but makes no comment. Evidently Mama had used too many words. She toddles back over to her Papa Rod and takes his hand, carefully leading him back over to Mama and grabbing her hand too. “Papa!” Rosy beams again, as they walk to the foyer, looking up at both parents happily.

The front door opens to Rabastan stood holding a box of sweets from Sugar Plums. Rosy squeals, letting go of both taken hands and launching herself at Rabastan. “Whoa there!” He laughs, placing a hand on her back as she latches onto him.

“What a wonderful welcome.” He muses, stooping down to gather Rosy in his arms. “I missed you, little snake.” He pecks her nose.

“Hey Bells, Rod.” Rab greets, stepping into the foyer. Rosy giggles, clapping her hands excitedly and bouncing in Rabastan’s arms. “Papa!” She exclaims, wrapping little arms around him tightly before turning to her parents. “Papa!” Reaching for Rod momentarily. “Mama!” Now reaching at Bellatrix.

“Hm? No, dove. Uncle Rab.” Rab corrects and Rosy’s face falls. “ Papa .” She says with more emphasis.

-

This was nice, the three of them holding hands like a family. It doesn’t last too long though, Bellatrix can’t quite compete with Rab and a box full of sweets.

“Hi Rab.” Bella smiles and nods, giggling as Rosy bounces excitedly. Then she pauses, had Rosy just called Rabastan Papa ? It seemed she had, and continued to name Rod as Papa as well and then she of course was Mama.

“Oh silly little snake. I know he looks like Papa, but that’s Uncle Rab.” She corrects along with Rab and sighs as Rosy repeats it.

She supposes it's confusing for a toddler to see two men who looked similar, and both helped look after her. One was Papa and one was Uncle. 

Rodolphus however was not amused. Glaring icily at his brother.

“Come on now Rosalind, he’s not your Papa, I am.”

-

Rosy’s expression is one of confusion and upset. Why didn’t they understand? Papa. Papa. Mama. She’d been very clear.

Hearing her full name coupled with her Papa Rod’s tone she shrinks into Papa Rab’s arms, turning her face to hide in his neck. “Come on now, Rod. She knows that. Like Bellatrix said, we look alike. It’s confusing for her.” He hands the elf the box of sweets who pops off to the kitchen to plate them and smooths a hand down Rosy’s back.

“Shh, s’alright dove. No one’s upset.” A pointed look is shot Rodolpus’ way. He steps further into the manor, door clicking shut behind him, when Rosy sniffles. “Aw no, none of that..”

“ Mama .” Rosy whines, turning sharply away from Rab and throwing her arms out. “ Up .”

-

“I don’t think we look so much alike as to be confusing.” Rodolphus insisted and Bellatrix sighs, taking the toddler into her arms instead.

“ Enough arguing, she’ll learn one day, but for now there’s no harm in her calling us what she likes. She called me a butterfly the other day and you don’t see me whining about it.”

She turns her attention to the brunette, kissing her head. “It’s alright, you’ll sort it out one day, no need for tears.” She brushes a few stray ones from her cheeks, twitching her fingers so a certain plush dragon floated down the stairs and into her arms.

“Aww look who it is, Puff likes Uncle Rab too.” 

Rodolphus crossed his arms, still looking like a petulant child. “Excuse me for not wanting my child calling someone else Papa .” 

-

Rosy leans into Mama’s touch, brushing her cheek along Bella’s palm once, twice, three times before stopping, soothed by her words. She reaches out as Puff floats over. Her well loved dragon having been by her side since the day she was born.

“Puff-Puff..” She mumbles, making his wings flap a bit before turning him to Rod. “Papa.” Rosy says, leaning forward to touch the dragon’s nose to Papa Rod’s. “Papa.” She says again, doing the same for Rab. A crooked smile tucks into the corner of Rosy’s lips before turning the dragon on Mama. “Bu’r’fly.”

Rabastan laughs, ruffling her hair and paying no mind to his sulking brother. “Whatever you say, princess. Come on then, whoever I am, I brought treats.” He says starting off towards the parlor.

-

Bellatrix giggles as she’s so affectionately called butterfly again. “Yes, yes that’s me, butterfly. Although I suppose tomorrow I might be sofa or chocolate if you learn those words.” She laughs and then looks mischievously at the toddler in her arms.

“Did you hear that? Uncle Rab brought treats!” She turns to look at Rab with doe-ish eyes.

“Oh Uncle Rab, might one of those treats be a cherry mouse pop?” She grins and Rodolphus rolls his eyes.

“Fully grown woman and your favourite sweet is still a lollipop shaped like a mouse. Treacle Tart is far better.” He mutters.

-

Rabastan’s emerald eyes narrow at his brother as they enter the parlor. Petal, the house elf, having laid all the sweets out on a serving tray along with tea and a sippy cup of milk. “Now, Papa, that isn’t very kind now is it? Everyone has their preferences.”

The talk of sweets recaptivates Rosy’s attention. The little witch lifting her head from Mama’s shoulder and looking down at the assorted cakes and candies. “B’wue take!” She exclaims, wriggling out of Mama’s arms and darting to the table to snatch up a cauldron cake.

The brothers sit. Rab reaches out to pour cups of tea for the three of them. Rosy sits herself on the carpet and takes a large bite of the handheld treat.

“A mouse pop for Mama..” Rab says, handing over the cup and saucer along with a cherry mouse pop. “Treacle tart for Papa Rod.” The action is repeated for Rodolphus. “And an acid pop and pepper imps for Papa Rab.”

Rosy looks up at that. Little face and hands already covered in chocolate. “Pap-*chews*-pa Wab!”

-

Bellatrix carries the toddler into the parlour, nodding at Petal as she leaves the room, wincing as Rosy scrambles out of her arms and picks up a cake with her whole hand. “Oh Rosy, dove there are forks.” Bits of chocolate cake crumbs already dropping onto the carpet.

Shaking her head, Bellatrix takes a seat, sipping her tea and grinning as the mouse pop is handed over, immediately setting down her tea to pop the whole thing into her mouth.

Her mother had always been so concerned about Bellatrix ruining her teeth by eating so many sweets, especially the mouse pops but now she was grown and had lovely perfect teeth, she could eat as many as she pleased. She pulls the sweet from her mouth, taking little licks instead.

“It's a wonder you haven’t burnt a hole in your tongue eating those yet.” She comments, eyeing the bright green lollipop. She might steal a pepper imp though.

When Rosy looks up, she can’t help but giggle at the mess she’s made of her hands and face. “Good thing you’re due for a bath tonight anyway.”

-

“Rosalind, disgusting, really and improper to boot. You didn’t ask Mama or I if you could have any.” Rodolphus scolds and Rosy drops her head ashamedly. 

“ Rod for fucks sake, come off your power trip. She’ll grow out of calling me Papa. I bet if she knew any other men they’d be Papa too, alright? Just let her be two.” Rabastan says with little room for argument, fed up with his brother’s behaviour.

“She’d better grow out of it.” Is all Rodolphus mutters back.

Rosy in fact did not grow out of it.

Chapter Text

October 15th, 1981

It was an unusually warm day for October and the three Lestranges were sat out in the garden, Rodolphus smoking a cigar, Bellatrix reading a book and Rosy wandering the path, stopping every now and again to admire (or pluck) a lonely bloom to bring to her Mama. On days like these, Bellatrix could almost believe they were a real, normal pureblood family. Just two parents and their child in the sunshine. These days made her forget Rosy wasn’t really Rodolphus’.

The sound of little Mary Jane shoes on the cobbles comes nearer followed by “Mama, look!” The toddler squealed as she ran up the path before quickly depositing a black garden snake onto the pages of the book Bellatrix was reading, startling the witch.

“Oh! You’ve found a snake, best be gentle with him if you want to play.” Bellatrix’ eyes were already scanning over the scaly body of the snake for any spots or rings that might indicate it was dangerous, exhaling softly in relief to find none. It was just a plain garden snake, still she didn’t want Rosy to get bitten for handling him too roughly. Her owl Ophelia had nipped her just yesterday because the little witch kept ruffling her feathers.

“Otay Mama.” Rosy nods, the snake hisses softly as Rosy picks him back up and sets him down on a cobblestone, laying on her stomach with him. 

Bellatrix returns to her book on how to grow her own Nightshade when she’s again interrupted by the sound of more hissing, louder and more human than snake. It takes her a moment to realize it was coming from Rosy, and the sound was almost familiar. Not the usual cadence of a toddler simply mimicking the sound an animal made. This wasn’t just ‘hiss hiss’ there was tone and different sounds. Like a language. One she’s never heard her daughter speak ever before.

The older witch feels every inch of her body take on a sudden chill, a lump of anxiety growing in her throat. Perhaps she was just playing. She was always talking to Puff and the owls and any bug that she came across.

“Rosy..” She asks cautiously, looking down at her feet where the girl and snake were. “What are you doing?”

The tiny witch looks up. “Taw’kin Mama, he lost.” She answers as if the answer was the most obvious one of all, before continuing. “Poor snake, I tell Papa not fill in your holes no mores.”

The anxiety in her chest grows. How would Rosy know about filling in the snake holes? Rodolphus had only told Petal that this morning and she had still been asleep.

Rodolphus who was sitting near Bellatrix had heard the conversation and hissing as well, looking stone faced at his wife, especially as he is mentioned in the conversation. Her heart starts beating a little faster. Hoping Rodolphus wasn’t thinking the same thoughts she was. It couldn’t be possible…

“Is she..talking to the snake? Like actually talking to it? Can’t speak English properly but can understand snakes? Where’d she learn that?” He asks, and Bellatrix pretends to read her book shrugging, nonchalantly.

“Oh, she’s a clever girl. Probably picked it up or-” She tries to answer but Rodolphus cuts her off.

“Are you a Parslemouth Bellatrix? Because if you are, that’s bloody news to me! Look at me when I’m speaking to you!” He shouts and startled Bellatrix looks up from her book.

Bellatrix closes her book and stands, if he was going to shout, she wasn’t going to be meekly sitting when he did. “Rod, calm down. You’re getting upset over nothing, it’s likely just her babbling, you know how she talks to everything.” She tries to reassure him but his face is still full of fury.

“Am I? Are you Parselmouth? Are you one and you haven’t thought to tell me?! Because last I knew being one is a hereditary trait not just something a bloody toddler picks up!” He roars at her.

Rosy begins to cry on the ground, confused and upset. She’s never heard her Papa yell at her Mama quite like that before and her Mama looks frightened of him. She stands, going over to Papa, and raises her arms, trying to distract him. “Up, Papa, up!” She insists through a sniffle.

Rodolphus looks down at her with a sneer, taking a step back from the girl with a look of disgust, Bellatrix conflicted on whether to address his accusations or her daughter first. “Mama..Papa..” Rosy whines.

Bellatrix looks at her husband imploringly “Rodolphus please, you’re scaring her. Just calm down, look, she wants her Papa to hold her.” The little witch now trying to jump up into his arms, frustrated and more upset the more he ignores her.

“ Am I her Papa Bellatrix?” He asks and the bluntness of the question makes Bellatrix fumble for words, just staring trying to comprehend what was happening. Her hesitation is enough of a confirmation for Rodolphus.

“Petal!” He shouts and the Elf appears immediately by his side.

“Yes Master Lestrange?” She asks, wide eyed looking up at the man, wondering if she’d been called just to be hit.

“Petal, take the girl to her room.” He orders and Petal nods obediently.

“Y-Yes Sir, comes Miss Rosy. Petal is to be taking you inside.” She reaches to grab Rosy’s arm but the toddler begins screaming instead.

“No No No! Rosy no go! Rosy stay! Papa tells Rosy to stay!” She screams and sobs, clutching at his trouser legs as Petal pries her off.

“Rod, leave her alone, she doesn’t need to go she-” Bellatrix tries, the screams from her daughter breaking her heart and making her tear up.

“The girl doesn’t need to hear this Bellatrix. Petal take her inside. Now.” He instructs again.

Petal manages to pull Rosy free and pops away before the girl could make another attempt to cling to the man, the sudden disappearance of her daughter and the silence that follows driving icy fear into Bellatrix’s veins.

“Rod, I don’t know what’s that matter with you but this is-” She cries out as he suddenly grabs her by the collar of her dress, the toes of her boots barely brushing the ground.

“Shut. Up. Now you listen to me, wife . The only living person I know who is a parselmouth is the Dark Lord, Bellatrix. Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t fuck him!” He shouts and Bellatrix can only stare wide eyed at him, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“Unbelievable.” He snarls and unceremoniously drops her without warning, and she lands on the ground but he continues his tirade, looming over her.. “You’re a liar and a whore Bellatrix. My biggest mistake was ever tying myself to the likes of you.”

Once Bellatrix has regained her breath, she stands up, dusting herself off, refusing to let him win. Perhaps he would understand if she explained.

“Rodolphus stop, you have this all wrong, listen to me you don’t understand-” She begins but he once again cuts her off, laughing coldly.

“Understand? Oh I understand plenty! Does He know you’re hiding his child from him? Know what a lying whore his precious Lieutenant is? I bet he didn’t even need to repeat himself when he asked, did he? No, of course not. One word and your knickers dropped. A perfect little slut for the Dark Lord. Did you enjoy it? Was it everything you’ve ever dreamed of? Was it worth it? Ruining all you have here for a bit of cock?” 

Bellatrix’ breath catches her throat when he starts into the how and whys of the encounter. Like she had asked for it. Enjoyed it. Like she hadn’t just been used as a convenient cunt on legs and sent on her way in the middle of the night. Her eyes burn with tears but she blinks them back.

“It was an order Rodolphus. You weren’t allowed to know, I never-” She tries to explain, her voice breaking as she struggles to maintain composure while he throws this back in her face without giving her a word to explain. Her tears enrage the man further.

“Oh an order ? I wasn’t aware it was the habit of the Dark Lord to order members of his ranks to spread their legs and suck his cock. Stop with the show Bellatrix, you’re caught and now I guess we all know why you’re Lieutenant don’t we? No one else was willing to fill the extra duties. Or I suppose be filled is more accurate.” He looks at her with more disgust than he had Rosy, as if she were an insect or a mudblood instead of his wife.

Those few words are enough to flip the switch in Bellatrix’ head from rational to anger. How dare he. How dare he insinuate she doesn’t deserve her position. As if she hadn’t seen to the training of half the ranks. Ran successful raids and missions and worked her way to the innermost circle on talent alone. The first witch in the ranks. Now she saw red.

Her face contorts, the hurt and upset draining from it, stone cold cruelty etching in its place instead and she laughs a cold and drawn out cackle.

“No, Rodolphus, see that’s the thing you’re not understanding. I was Lieutenant before Rosy. Awarded that honour above the rest of you years before. Even then the Dark Lord saw how valuable and more powerful I was than you. You can only survive duelling Order members because I taught you. The McKinnons are dead because I ran that mission and it was me who took down Gideon Prewett when you got paralyzed. It was my bloodline, the Dark Lord wanted his child to be from. The Noble and Ancient House of Black the one he wanted to give the honour of being linked to his heir.” There, she’d officially said it now. Told him to his face that Rosy was the Dark Lord’s heir.

Now it was Rodolphus’ turn to stumble for words, his only ammo had been the Dark Lord not knowing but now he could hear the cold truth in the words his wife spoke to him, but Bellatrix wasn’t finished.

“The pitiful thing is you believed Rosy was ever yours in the first place. I thought it would be so hard convincing you but the Dark Lord knew it would be easy. If she hadn’t spoken to the snake, you wouldn’t have ever known, it's laughable. She’s more powerful than you will ever be. She’s a parselmouth at age two, I’ll bet her magic shows up at three.” She finishes and looks at him.

All he can say in response is. “You’re a bitch.” 

“Head Bitch in Charge, to you.”

Chapter Text

October 31st, 1981

It had been nearly two weeks since Rodolphus had found out, Rosalind, for that’s all he was willing to call her now, wasn’t his child to begin with. The tension in the Manor had been palpable, the man furious and disgusted by the child but unable to do much in response. The Dark Lord would not allow him to live if he harmed or injured his heir in any way. So being asked to host the meeting had been a much needed distraction for the Lestranges.

Their house elf Petal had seen to it that the large dining table and chairs had been cleared and moved into the ballroom, one chair set out for each member who would be in attendance, plus one additional. Bellatrix was an anxious wreck all morning, never had the meetings been held anywhere but at Riddle Manor. It was an honour to hold one in their home.

Gradually everyone but their Master had arrived and filed into their seat, Bellatrix sending Petal upstairs to keep watch of Rosy while the meeting was conducted. Everything was as set and ready as it could be; all the ranks sat still, waiting until the door to the ballroom swung open and the Dark Lord swept in, taking his seat at the head of the table.

“Ah, I see all of you encountered no difficulties with the change in location. I intend to keep this as brief as possible. Late last night, I was provided with some crucial information.” He reached a hand into his robe pocket and pulled out a rather large rat, setting it on the table. “You may join us now, Wormtail.” He hissed and the rat instantly, transformed into a young man. Or perhaps the description boy may have suited better. He didn’t look like he was even of age to use magic outside of Hogwarts.

There were a few snickers at the rat-boy’s appearance, which were quickly silenced with one scathing look from the Dark Lord. “This boy has come forward to do what you all have failed to do these last three months. He has provided me with the exact location of the Potters.”

A stunned silence fell over the room and Bellatrix reached and grabbed hold of Rabastan’s hand beneath the table, squeezing it. That meant the hunt was over, the threat to their success would be eliminated. All had new appreciation for the blond boy scrambling to get off the table and standing timidly beside the Dark Lord. Bellatrix spotted a Dark Mark on his forearm so new it was still swollen.

No one dared speak, awaiting further instruction from their Master, but all with bated breath, as Bellatrix glanced around. She noted with internal derision that only Severus Snape, another man who was barely out of his teen years, didn’t look thrilled at the news. In fact, Severus looked pale and as if he may be ill on the table right then and there.

The Dark Lord revels in the shocked silence a moment before he continues speaking. “It should then of course come to no surprise that tonight the boy will die. I will be completing this visit personally. No one is to accompany me but Wormtail. You are all instructed to stay in your homes, anyone who is seen near Godric’s Hollow or out on the streets when the news breaks will be suspect. Wormtail is a trusted friend of the Potters, his appearance will be hardly questioned. Once the task is completed, I will summon you. There, I will reward those who have shown utmost dedication to me and our cause. It will surprise no one that Wormtail and the Lestranges will be at the top of that list.” He smirked, and Bellatrix felt her entire body heat and flush, squeezing Rabastan’s hand even harder.

Rodolphus, who sat on her right, merely cast his wife a loathing glance before returning his attention to the Dark Lord.

Tom pauses, allowing his ranks a moment to process their new instructions before grinning. “Now, all but the Lestranges are dismissed. Await my summons. Tomorrow the Potters will be no more.”

Bellatrix had moved to stand, sitting back down as all three Lestranges are instructed to remain. Given what he’s just said about them being rewarded above all else, she’s almost giddy to be asked to stay. Everyone files out, the door shutting behind them and echoing in the now near empty ballroom.

The dark witch sits up straighter in her chair, almost beaming, until the Dark Lord turns to face them and his expression is not one of pleasure or praise but stony anger . She swallows thickly, letting go of Rabastan’s hand and shifting in her seat.

“It appears I have spoken too early just now. About what dedication and promise the Lestranges have shown me.” He hisses in a low tone that makes her shiver. The entire room turning cold. “Did you think you could keep this from me? Keep secrets from your Lord!” He shouts and her body tenses further, afraid to even ask what he meant. Her face must have asked the question for her because he continues. “Stand Bellatrix.” He orders and shakily she does so.

“My Lord?” She asks in a small voice.

“As both your husband and brother in-law already know, I'll skip the skirting around the topic. Were you, or were you not ordered to keep silent about the parentage of the girl Rosalind?” He asks and Bellatrix feels her stomach plummet to her feet.

Oh Salazar, he knew.

“I-I was. Yes, that was an order given to me by you two years ago my Lord.” She answers with trepidation in her voice.

“And so you chose to disobey me?” He asks with a cruel mocking to his tone. “For how else would it come to be that both of these men know? How easily one’s thoughts become unguarded when in a crowd.”

The realization of how he knew dawned on her and it made her stomach flip. He’d found out through Rod’s thoughts. When he’d glared at her just then. Rabastan must have had a similar thought. She hadn’t even been aware Rabastan knew!

“M-My Lord, I swear to you I did not disobey you. I haven’t spoken a word of it to either of them. I convinced them both just as you instructed.” Bellatrix says, her voice cracking as she speaks. 

The Dark Lord laughs coldly. “Have you? If you had done as I asked, neither would be sitting here now. You’ve failed Bella. You will answer for your failure, Crucio!” 

Bellatrix screams as the curse slams into her, bringing her to her knees, her arm colliding with the edge of the table as she falls, whimpering and gasping. 

Ignoring the witch, he turns his attention to the two brothers. “You now have the same instructions, no one else will know the truth or I’ll see to it that all three of your names end up on the desk of the Auror office, is that clear?” 

The men glance at Bellatrix, nodding solemnly. The Dark Lord wasn’t just threatening pain or death but betrayal and a life sentence in Azkaban. The compliance pleases Tom. 

“Excellent, you two are dismissed. I’m not quite finished speaking with Bellatrix.” He waves them both away with his hand. Rodolphus doesn’t even pause before slipping from the room. Rabastan glances at Bellatrix with every step out the door, the witch giving him a pleading look as she twitches. Once the door closes, she feels his full wrath trained on her. 

“How did he find out!” He shouts, another curse slamming into her, making her scream again. 

“How Bellatrix! Tell me how!” Another two curses accompany his demands and Bellatrix is flat on her back, screaming, writhing and gasping for breath as tears roll down her cheeks. 

“S-she-“ She tries to force words out between her screams with little success. 

“HOW!” He demand again with another slice of his wand through the air. 

“S-snakes!” She sobs out. “The girl can t-talk to snakes! He heard her in the-the garden! Two w-weeks ago! Please my lord!” She chokes out. 

The explanation makes him pause. “A parslemouth. You should have anticipated that, planned for it.” He takes a few steps, towering over her. “Let us hope this is the last time you fail me.” 

She attempts a nod, still quietly sobbing and feeling a weakness in her body from the curses, unable to move more than a twitch of a finger. 

“Wait for my summons.” He declares, before striding from the room, leaving her on the floor. 

Bellatrix watches him leave through teary eyes, hoping the next she saw him she could make up for this mistake. 

Chapter Text

December 27th, 1981

Long talon like nails, tap rhythmically against the arm of the chair Bellatrix was sat in, glancing at the clock while Rosy played with a set of enchanted blocks near her feet. It had seemed only yesterday, though it had actually been nearly a month since they had first begun planning. It had started so simply, a whispered rumour passed on that the Dark Lord, missing for almost two months now, was being held imprisoned somewhere by the Ministry. A location only shared to a select team of Aurors. Aurors Augustus Rookwood knew by name and had sent via a messenger to the Lestranges.

Alice and Frank Longbottom. Blood traitors.

Bellatrix fidgets with the rings on her fingers, running through the plans in her head for the tenth time. It was simple, they had their address now, all they had to do was torture the answer out of them. Then they could set out finding and freeing their Master. The Daily Prophet believed him dead. They knew otherwise. And tonight they would finally have the proof that they were right.

She had never organized and ran an entire mission like this on her own, unprompted by the Dark Lord’s directions; it was exciting and anxiety-inducing all at once. Never had she left Rosy alone, when she had been called away, Rodolphus or Rabastan, sometimes both, ensured the girl was taken care of. This time she was relying on Petal.

-

Rosy sits, unaware of her Mama’s inner turmoil, and to the fact she’s meant to be left alone in just a few short hours, slowly stacking her blocks. She’d been feeling rather lethargic all day but was determined to ignore it in a way only a stubborn toddler could.

She watches as the blocks begin to lean and then eventually topple over, the charm on them making them fall silently. Instead of roaring with laughter, as typical of the tiny brunette, Rosy merely blinks, a small but satisfied smile tucked into the corner of her lips.

Just beginning to start from scratch the toddler pauses to cough, a sort of rattling wheeze echoing from her chest, right into her hand. The force of which causes a dull head pain that Rosy doesn’t like.

“Owie.” She murmurs, quietly going back to stacking as her stomach begins to coil.

-

It wasn’t that Bellatrix didn’t have faith the elf could look after the toddler, especially since Rosy would likely already be in bed before she left. She was just worried. What if something happened? What if Rosy had a meltdown when Papa Rab, Papa Rod, and Mama all left at once?

Her worrying train of thought is interrupted as she hears the cough, looking up and knitting her brows together in concern. 

“Oh, that’s a big cough for a little witch. Are you alright Rosy?” She asks, wondering if perhaps there was dust in the rug making her sick. She would tell Petal to take it outside and beat it on the next clear day.

-

Rosy lifts her head to reply but ends up coughing yet again. A whooping cough that shakes the toddler from head to toe. This time she whines, pressing the palms of her hands to her eyes. Every cough felt like lightning behind her eyes and in her temples.

“Am okays..” She insists, despite clear discomfort. Worried that perhaps Mama would think it an opportune time to put her down for a nap. Her stomach gurgles and Rosy is overcome with the sudden need to curl up and ride out the cramp of pain.

So she does, carefully lowering herself and pressing her cheek to the rug, giving a violent shiver as she waits for the feeling to subside.

-

This second cough really has Bellatrix worried. Her eyes scans over the little brunette, about to ask again if she was truly alright when she curls up on the rug and shivers. That has Bellatrix out of her chair and kneeling beside her, stroking her hair.

“Rosy..what’s wrong dove? Does something hurt?” She asks, still stroking her hair. 

This wasn’t the first time Rosy had been sick. Toddlers were prone to catching every type of illness imaginable, even toddlers who seldom left the house, so Bellatrix had looked after coughs and fevers before but each time, Rosy had always looked fine. That didn’t seem to be the case today. She’s never seen her daughter act like this before and she’s concerned.

“Want Mama to get you a sippy cup of juice? Or an icy pop?” She asks, chewing her lip nervously. 

Neither Rodolphus or Rabastan were home, they were off securing last minute details for tonight, it was only Bellatrix and Petal in the house now. Not exactly a star duo for tending to a sick toddler.

-

Rosy exhales deeply as Mama’s fingers run through her curls, but everything still feels wrong . The little brunette inhales sharply through her mouth, almost panting softly as she thinks of words.

Her tummy hurt. Her head hurt. Her chest hurt. Nothing was right but it’s difficult for a two year old to articulate as much. Especially when the promise of an icy pop was so alluring. Maybe it would help her feel less hot.

Unable to resist temptation Rosy forces herself to sit up. If one were to be looking closely they’d notice she’d taken on a slight tremor, her typically pale face even more devoid of colour except brightly flushed cheeks. “No, Mama. ‘m okays, is just soft.” She dismisses her Mama’s concerns, running her fingers over the carpet to emphasize her point. “Icy pop, pease?”

-

While Bellatrix wasn’t completely convinced nothing at all was wrong, she was relieved that the promise of an ice pop seemed to perk her up. 

“Alright, Petal one icy pop for Rosy.” She instructs the elf who happened to be walking past. Petal nods and disappears to fetch one. Bellatrix looked over the little brunette again, she looked flushed in her cheeks, but then she was just laying face first on the rug. 

The elf returns with a bright red ice pop in the shape of a dragon, handing it to her young mistress. “For Misses Rosy.” She squeaks as Rosy takes hold of it. 

“There we go, thank you Petal.” Bellatrix nods, sitting back in her chair, relieved the ice pop should be the solution. 

-

Rosy grips the frozen treat in her fist, smiling weakly at Petal and managing a soft, “Tank oo.” She eyes the sweet carefully, taking one cautious lick and scrunching her face as her stomach flips.

No, no, no. Her tiny knuckles turn white with the force with which she’s holding the popsicle stick. Finally satisfied that she isn’t going to bring up her last meal Rosy’s eyes peek back open and gives a scathing look to the icy pop as a bit of the dragon's wing begins to melt down her hand.

Her body still tremors, her cough only increasing in frequency. Rosy’s lower lip wobbles as her head pounds. “ Mama ..”

-

The moment Bellatrix reaches her chair, her head begins spinning through the evening’s plans, what she needed to bring, wear and say, the important bit of obliviating the pair of them afterwards. Hearing a little whine she looks up. 

“Hmm?” 

Oh. The ice pop was now dripping down Rosy’s hand and arm, the unfortunate colour of the popsicle making it look like blood. Rosy looked pale and feverish and that cough rattled her chest. 

“Yes my dove?” She asks, standing up and moving to sit back with her again. “What’s the matter little snake? You usually love ice pops.” She puts a hand to her head and pulls it back immediately. She was burning up! 

Oh. Now she was really worried. 

“Petal!” She shouts and the urgency has the elf back in an instant. “Owl a Mediwitch, immediately!” She demands, her heart racing. 

This seemed so much more than a cold or fever. Bellatrix was scared. 

-

“I-Is m-melting!” Rosy wails, though the meltdown is just displaced discomfort. “I-I don’t wan-it too melts, Mama!” She hiccups, dropping the icy pop onto the carpet as her hands come up to swipe at fast falling tears, only managing to smear melted popsicle across her cheeks and into her eyes.

“Ow, Mummy.. ow!” The toddler sobs, flinching as Mama feels her burning forehead. Now she’s started she can’t stop. Coughing heavily and gasping for breath through hiccuping cries, her whole face turning near scarlet with each set of whooping coughs.

“M-Mummy, ic-icky—“ Rosy manages, though the words are muffled and broken through her painful coughs and unrelenting tears. Her shift from Mama to Mummy is a clear indication of the true depths of the toddler’s discomfort.

She coughs heavily once, twice, and then a third so hard she’s finally sick, her stomach only felt marginally better now she had.

It had all gone wrong so quickly. What had started as mild discomfort and a wicked cough was quickly revealing itself to be some type of flu bug.

Petal pops back into the room to inform the Mediwitch had been contacted with a note of urgency made very clear. The elf immediately began to clean the carpet once all was told.

-

Bellatrix all but leaps back as Rosy is sick on the carpet, staring anxiously at her daughter, her very clearly sick daughter.

At least the Mediwitch had been summoned, but she still needed to look after Rosy until they arrived and Bellatrix was about the worst person to depend on for healing of any kind. This poor tiny witch was depending on her to make things better, and she had no idea what to do or how to make things any more comfortable.

She opts to pick her up, cradling her in her arms and attempting to soothe her, stroking her hair and clammy cheeks. “Shhhh, it's alright, Mama’s got you. Petal’s called for someone to help too, we’ll look after you dove.” She nods, blinking back her own tears.

Her mind is whirling, trying to think of something, anything that would be helpful, afraid to administer any potions unless they made things worse. Her eyes catch sight of the honey stirrer she had left on her saucer from her tea and she summons it, handing the little spoon to the tiny brunette, maybe the honey would help better than the icy pop?

“Here, take little licks of the honey darling, it'll help not feel icky.” She says, not sure if anything she was saying was true but certain honey couldn’t harm her.

-

Rosy cries harder as she’s lifted. Turning her head away from Mama’s coaxing. No, no, no she doesn’t want to eat anything at all. She shivers violently in Mama’s arms, curling into her chest.

“M-Mummy..” She doesn’t want anything in particular. Only to feel better. Not requesting anything or warning she’ll be ill. Only calling out for Mama again and again, almost trying to comfort herself.

Her winter dress is suffocating, her stockings stifling, and her proximity to Mama isn’t helping her fever. However being held is just about the only thing keeping her soothed enough to not cry herself sick again.

-

Bellatrix is trying not to feel too defeated that nothing she does seems to help or comfort the toddler. She sets the honey stirrer down and glances anxiously at the door for any signs of a Mediwitch. None yet.

Alright, what else might help? Rosy seemed to be too warm with her fever, maybe less clothing would help?

Carefully, she sets the girl down and begins to gently remove woolen stockings and beginning on the buttons on the back of her dress, summoning a night dress from upstairs to put her in instead, the much thinner fabric sticking to her clammy skin almost instantly.

“There, how’s that little dove? A bit more comfy?” She asks, glancing at the door again and her stomach tightening to not see a Mediwitch standing there yet. Merlin, how long did it take to respond to an emergency house call!

-

It isn’t much longer until the fireplace roars and a Mediwitch steps out. “Apologies”, she says, immediately stepping over to Bellatrix’ side. “I had to undergo decontamination as my last call turned out to be Spattergroit. Couldn’t be trailing that about, of course, but I’m sorry for the delay.”

Rosy lay on the sofa clutching her stomach with her eyes clenched shut, little whimpers sounding into the cushions. Her coughs trail into one another and are only interrupted when she’d take a moment to wretch.

“Oh, poor love.” The Mediwitch hums, crouching beside the tiny witch and pulling a stethoscope from her bag. “Oh dear.” She says immediately, pressing a hand to Rosy’s forehead before listening to her chest. The Mediwitch listens a few moments before shaking her head and pulling away. “There’s a bit of fluid building that’s giving her issue. An infection no doubt.”

The woman stands and looks at Bellatrix sympathetically. “Children are magnets for illness. Her cough and congestion in combination with her fever, it looks like Black Cat Flu. Terribly common but unfortunately not all that treatable.”

-

When the fireplace roars to life, Bellatrix’ heart leapt. Oh thank Merlin! She just simply nods and steps back to allow the Mediwitch to work, keeping an eye on Rosy and feeling her heart ache with every cough and retch the little one made.

She wrings her hands together, the comments of ‘oh dear’ not at all reassuring to the extremely anxious and worried mother, but it's the last sentence that has her stomach plummeting to the floor.

“Not, not that treatable? What does that mean? Is she alright? She’ll get better right?” She asks, dark eyes wide and flickering between the woman in front of her and her daughter.

No. No this couldn’t be the end. She was only barely two, she couldn’t lose her! She’s never even heard of Black Cat Flu, where would Rosy have even contracted such a thing? The child didn’t leave the house! Had Rodolphus brought it back from a raid…had she? If she was the cause of her daughter dying of an untreatable illness she’d never forgive herself. 

Caught up in her anxieties she grabs Rosy’s hand, eyes tearful. “Please, there has to be something you can do? She’s…she’s only two..” She pleads with the Mediwitch.

-

The woman lets out a sound between a startled laugh and a coo, reaching out and gently placing her hands on Bellatrix’ shoulders. “Oh, oh, Rowena above, love she’s your first isn’t she? I apologize.” And she sounds genuinely distraught to have scared Bellatrix so badly. “She’s alright, she’ll patch right up, dear, honest. I take it your mother wasn’t a healer, no, see it’s so common in children.” She rushes to explain, smoothing Bellatrix’ curls soothingly as a mother would her child.

“I’m certain you’ve had it more than once and Rosalind here she’ll certainly get it again. We just grow immune to it as we get older. The virus, the infection itself, isn’t treatable by way of potion. It will just need to clear on its own. However the symptoms are manageable that way. It’s a strong regimen of anti-nausea and decongestants with a bit of cough suppressant and fever reducer. A potion or two every few hours, even through the night, but she will heal. I swear to the founders you aren’t losing her.”

-

Never had Bellatrix felt so small as when the Mediwitch is consoling her, and it takes a moment for the words and their meaning to sink in and she feels her cheeks flush a dark pink.

Oh. She’d completely overreacted to what was evidently a normal childhood illness, gods was she crying in front of this woman? She brushes away the tears, trying to blink back the other watering her eyes.

She nods slowly. “Yes, she is my first, my mother wasn’t a healer and neither am I. She’s never been sick quite like this before, little colds or fevers but this was new, it’s why we summoned you.” Now she’s realizing even that was likely unnecessary for the situation but she truly hadn’t known what it was, or what to do.

Relief floods her body, replacing the terror and anxiety that had been there a moment before, squeezing Rosy’s hand comfortingly. “Hear that little snake, a few potions and you’ll be right as rain again, Mama will make you feel much better.” 

Potions. She could administer potions. Stay up all night if she had-oh shit.

In fact she couldn’t stay up all night. There was something rather important happening tonight, in just a few hours. Still, she wouldn’t feel right leaving Rosy alone, sick and leaving a house elf of all things to look after a schedule of alternating potions. What if Petal got distracted folding laundry and missed a potion? What if Rosy got worse? What if she wouldn’t take potions without her Mama around?

She glances at the little brunette coughing on the couch again. Rodolphus, Rabastan and Barty would kill her. They’d planned this evening for weeks, knew every detail. But this was her daughter, her very young toddler with her first really terrible sickness. How could she leave her? Run off to torture information from Aurors while she lay sick in bed? What kind of mother would do that?

Her resolve sets further. She was staying with Rosy.

-

The Mediwtich stays a while longer, helping Bellatrix measure out the first doses of potions, much to Rosy’s dismay, and fills the anxious mother in on how to continue care. She eventually pats Rosy on the head and gives Bellatrix a reassuring squeeze before making her exit.

Rosy, a bit more lively now she’d had some potions, sits curled into the corner of the couch and reaches for Bellatrix with a discontented grunt. “Mama, am I poorly?” She asks with a poignant pout, lower lip wobbling. She hates being ill. Potions tasted disgusting and she wasn’t allowed to play as she’d like and Petal always left her alone in the room to tend to other things in the house.

The fire roars again, actually thrice more in quick succession. Rodolphus, Rabastan, and Barty stepping into the parlour. “Ready?” Rab asks, wringing his hands anxiously. “Barty found out where they live. Perks of Daddy Dearest being in the Ministry, yeah?”

“Papa an’ Papa..” Rosy croaks thickly, her voice weak from coughing. “Oi, and Uncle Barty.” The teen sulks which has both Lestrange men laughing.

“Uncle Junior more like.” Rab retorts walking over to the sofa with a small frown, tilting his head questioningly at Bellatrix. Rod, with far less tact, chimes in. “What’s wrong with Rosalind? Not crying about you working again, is she?”

-

Bellatrix just kisses her daughter’s head. “A little poorly, but we’re working on getting you better. Mama’s going to stay here and look after you all night my little witch.” She was relieved to see the potions had already begun to make the tiny brunette a bit perkier and she wasn’t as pale looking as she’d been before.

When the fireplace roars to life, she feels a lump in her throat and she stands from the sofa, casting an icy glance at Rod before answering the three of them.

“The Mediwitch was just here, it seems Rosy’s caught the Black Cat Flu. There’s no easy fix but time, but potions will help her feel less sick and-” She pauses to swallow thickly.

“I’ll be staying here with her tonight. Her potions have to be administered every few hours on rotation and I don’t trust Petal to handle so much.” She braces herself for the response.

The reaction to their Lieutenant pulling out of the mission minutes before they were meant to leave and carry it out.

“I can’t leave her alone, not when she’s so sick.”

-

“So because she’s a little cold—“

“It’s a flu Rodolphus, don’t you listen?” Rabastan snaps at his brother who only rolls his eyes.

“So because she has a little flu you’re making us reschedule weeks if not months of work?” Rodolphus growls. Barty shoves his hands into his pockets, shifting anxiously on his feet.

“It has to be tonight, it’s our only chance.” The teen says, his tongue anxiously flickering across his lower lip.

Rabastan glances at Rosy, who seems too exhausted to really be absorbing the conversation much at all, and then back to Bellatrix. Going it alone was a terrifying prospect.

Could they execute a successful mission without their Lord or Lieutenant?

“Bells..I think Petal is more than capable. House elves raised us just fine. It’s just one night, she can get through one night without you. She’s tough, aren’t you little snake?” Rab tries directing his question to Rosy and prays she cooperates.

Rosy’s hands immediately cover her eyes as she feels the entire room staring at her expectantly.

“ Mama no go.” She pleads, her voice broken and teary.

-

Bellatrix knew the men wouldn’t like her answer, but she had made up her mind, and she would not stand here and be coerced or harassed into changing it.

“I’m not making you reschedule anything.” She says, her tone shifting into Lieutenant. Fixing the teen and her husband with a steely gaze. “The three of you will carry out the mission as planned. I would hope at this stage-” Her direction is interrupted when Rabastan tries to bring Rosy into the discussion.

“This is not a standard flu Rabastan, the Mediwitch has left me pages of instructions and if anything goes awry Rosy could get worse! I’m not chancing her health with a House Elf that can forget to put a kettle on. My decision is final, it won’t take all four of us to handle it anyway.” She finishes her declaration, leaving no room for argument.

Rodolphus snorts. “That toddler is making you soft, probably best you don’t go. They’ve an infant and you might get mushy if you hear it cry. Your tits will leak again.”

Bellatrix hisses through her teeth. “Rosy is right here Rodolphus, watch your tongue! Anyone else have any objections to me staying to care for my daughter ? No? Good, I thought not.”

Rodolphus mutters and storms off to get a drink before they leave, Barty looking nervously between Bellatrix and him and deciding following Rodolphus was a better course of action, leaving Bellatrix and Rabastan alone with Rosy.

She looks at Rabastan and sighs. “If I thought Petal could handle looking after her, you know I would go. She needs me Rab, more than the three of you do.”

-

Rabastan waits as the room otherwise clears. Running a tired hand over his face he nods. “I know, I know. It’s just all such uncharted territory. Without him, without you , I worry is all.”

His hand extends, slipping around the Lieutenant’s waist and pulling her in, placing a gentle kiss on red lips. Rosy coughs from the couch still hiding behind her hands as little hiccups begin sounding. Rabastan recognizes crying when he hears it, pulling away from Bella in favor of lifting Rosy into his arms.

“Up you get, little love.” He says, pressing a kiss onto her curls. “Our poor Rosy.” Rab coos, holding her between himself and Bellatrix. “Mama will take such good care of you and Papa Rab will be back by the sunrise, yeah?”

Rosy nods, hugging Rab tight before reaching over to Mama. Hugs from Papa were nice but with how sick she felt Rosy was firm in her need to stay close to Bellatrix. “Mummy stay?”

-

It was relieving that at least Rab understood, it wasn’t easy. She was a witch who liked control. Liked to be in control of missions and she didn’t give that up easily. “I know, as Lieutenant I give you permission to kick both their arses if they mess around. Be careful? Don’t stray from the plan, Barty is young and will want to use more force than necessary and Rod will try and take over.” She explains, squeezing his hand.

Seeing Rosy reach over she carefully gathers the girl in her arms. “Yes, Mummy stay. But Papa Rab, Papa Rod and Uncle Barty have to go, they’ll be back in the morning. Can you say bye bye to everyone?” She asks, the other two men re-entering the room.

“Well? We going or what?” Rodolphus asks, Barty fidgets nervously and Bellatrix looks over all three men. They had their anxieties but everything had been planned out, rehearsed. It would all be fine.

“Papa Rab and Uncle Barty, can you say goodnight to Rosy? She’ll be asleep when you come home.”

-

Rosy waves her hand at the group of them, shying into Mama’s curls. Rabastan leans in to peck her cheek. “Goodnight, Rosy. Papa Rab loves you. Feel better, yeah? I’ll see you in the morning.” The toddler blows her Papa Rab a kiss and then two more for Papa Rod and Barty.

“Night squirt.” Barty says, waving back to her with a crooked smile. Rod’s eyes roll but he waves all the same. “Goodnight Rosalind, don’t give your Mama a hard time, yeah?” His tone betrays his words. Despite it all he still has some care for her.

“Ninight…” Rosy manages, her voice thick with sleepiness, head resting on her Mama’s shoulder as she coughs lightly. 

-

Bellatrix rubs her hand over Rosy’s back soothingly. “Come on, let’s put you to bed hmm?” She turns her attention back to Rab as the other two, one at a time disappear back through the Floo. 

They’d arranged it that way. Each Flooing to a different location nearby then meeting up at the address. One person walking up the road was less suspicious than four. 

“Good luck, make those Aurors pay yeah?” She says and Rab nods with a little grin. 

“We will. See you at dawn. Love you, Bells.” He says stepping into the fireplace and disappearing as well. 

This would be a long night, caring for a sick toddler and waiting for the men to return.

Chapter Text

December 28th, 1981

The evening had been trying, there was no questioning that. Rosy had fought her potions and every attempt at care, wanting just to be held and cooed at by her Mama. 

Bellatrix had followed the Mediwitch’s instructions to the letter, and there seemed to have been much improvement in the little brunette’s health. So caught up in her care, she’d had very little time to address the anxieties brewing in her head about how things were going. 

Somehow, she’d found herself asleep next to Rosy, as she fussed and cried if she couldn’t clutch onto her Mama’s necklace, and the two slept until a dreary daylight broke through the curtains and she faintly heard a knock at the door, ignoring it but wondering why on earth they were knocking instead of just coming inside. They were meant to re-enter by the Floo anyhow! 

Petal will let them in, she’s had perhaps two hours of sleep and Rosy was still asleep. She’d changed the girl a third time around four in the morning when the fever broke. 

She shifts a little, so as not to disturb the brunette and is just drifting back off when there’s a soft ‘pop’ of apparition into the room. 

“Misses Bella? Misses Bella you’ve a visitor in the parlour. Petal apologizes it’s early but you needs to go down and speak with them.” Petal’s voice squeaks and Bellatrix groans. 

Who in Salazar was calling at this hour? She sits up and tries to smooth her hair and dress, carefully untangling herself from the toddler before exiting the room. “Watch her, make sure she stays asleep.” She instructs the elf who was already taking up the position on the bed Bellatrix had occupied. 

Descending the stairs, she’s surprised to hear no snores or chatter from the rooms down the hall. Perhaps the three men had simply passed out upon returning. 

As she rounds the corner to the parlour, a cold feeling washes over her, seeing not one, but two Aurors standing there. She glances up the stairs, no time to hide them but perhaps she can distract them? 

Calmly she enters the parlour, brushing a wrinkle out of her skirt. “Good morning.” She states. 

The first Auror steps forwards. “Good morning, we do apologize for the early morning call Madame Lestrange. I’ll get right to the crux of the matter. Last night two Aurors, Alice and Frank Longbottom were tortured within an inch of their life by the Cruciatus Curse.” He states and while Bellatrix’ heart hammers in her chest, she stays still, feigning the sort of shock in her face appropriate at hearing such news. 

“Oh, well that’s terrible isn’t it? Does the Ministry know who’s responsible?” She asks. 

Of course they do. That’s why they’re here. Bloody idiots were seen! 

The second Auror seems to consider the woman in front of him a moment. 

“As it happens we do. Madame Lestrange, the Ministry has arrested your husband and brother in-law for the crimes. Both were seen exiting the Longbottom residence and the last spell their wands used was the Cruciatus Curse. Witnesses say there was a third party who escaped pursuit. Madame Lestrange, we’d like to examine your wand.” 

It feels as if the floor has disappeared beneath her as the Aurors speak, panic and bile rising in her throat, her eyes wide. Arrested. Pursuit. They’d been caught. Physically caught and detained. They weren’t upstairs. They weren’t coming home. They were going to Azkaban!

This time her knees buckle and she falls to the floor with a strangled sob. 

“Restrain her, Perkins.” One of the Aurors states and before she knows what’s happened, her wrists are magically bound in front of her. 

“Wait! What are you doing?” She asks, panicking as she puts the pieces together and the other Auror takes her wand from her skirt pocket. 

Barty escaped. They know there were three. The other two she’s related to. They think she’s the third! 

“Bellatrix Lestrange, you’re being detained under the suspicion of using an Unforgivable Curse on the Longbottoms. Perkins, check her wand.” 

Everything is happening so fast, her head can’t keep up. She’s bound, an Auror has her wand, and they think she was there last night. 

“This is a mistake! I’ve been here since yesterday. My daughter was sick, I’ve been up all night caring for her. I don’t know what you think my husband did but I’ve been here! I haven’t tortured anyone!”  She insists, tugging at the magic binding her wrists.

Perkins, checks her wand over for last spells and shakes his head. “Nothing on her wand, ‘cept a few summoning charms. I don’t think it’s her.” 

As fast as her wrists had been bound, they were freed, and livid, Bellatrix gets to her feet.

“Is that Ministry protocol? Deliver the devastating news my husband has supposedly tortured someone, then bind me, and take my wand for no reason? I see compassion isn’t covered in Auror training. You might have asked to see my wand rather than rooting around in my skirt!” She seethes, fighting to keep her focus on acting like this was all news.

“Apologies Madame, we’ve been chasing down these self proclaimed Death Eaters for months. We always have to verify with spouses when crimes are committed. Very sorry to have to deliver the news this way, I’m sure it comes as a shock. You’ll be welcome to attend the trial if you wish. Is there anyone your husband or brother in-law spent time with who may have gone with them? We think they were looking for information, tried to torture it out of them.” 

To her credit, Bellatrix produces tears, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh Merlin. No, no one I can think of. It’s always just been us three.” She lies easily and the Aurors nod. 

“Of course, apologies again. Have a good day Madame Lestrange.” The Aurors nod and leave through the front door again and only once it’s clicked shut does Bellatrix let herself unravel, sobbing into the nearest. cushion. 

Rodolphus and Rabastan had been arrested. Would be put on trial and she’d likely never see either again. Unforgivable Curses carried life sentences.

And a tiny voice in the back of her head says;

If Rosy hadn’t been sick, you’d have been caught and arrested too.

And it’s not a thought she’s likely to forget anytime soon.