Epigraph

Lying on the front doorstep was a basket, holding a small baby with the beginning of black curled locks. The baby's aura flared as Bellatrix stepped closer and she fell to her knees in awe of the power and strength.

So...Dark... it was beautiful.

Needing to see her new Lord or Lady, the Black witch shifted to hover over the basket, noticing the pink knitted blanket and the yellowed envelope.

"My Lady..." Bellatrix whispered reverently, dragging the pad of her thumb up her delicate cheekbone.