Always In Your Shadow: Calista Snape Volume I (Snape's Daughter)

Bellatrix Lestrange rubbed her belly subconsciously as she peered down her nose. The woman on the ground beneath her writhed, eyes wild and round. "P-please," he choked, "Have-have mercy...I have done nothing to you."

Bellatrix laughed. "I am not known to be merciful," she crooned, pausing with her hand at the middle of her own belly. She owed nothing to this filthy Muggle bitch, but... perhaps pregnancy was making her soft. "Perhaps... just this once, I can make an exception..."

Relief flooded her blanched features; the sweat-soaked cheeks went slack. Carefully, she propped herself up on her elbows, edging slowly away from Bellatrix.

"Yes, I think I will give you mercy," Bellatrix said, her dark eyes alight. She twisted her wand through her fingers, thoughtfully.

"Th-thank you," the woman said on exhale, and she trembled like a leaf even as she slid further away from Bellatrix; like a cornered animal, she was afraid to make any sudden moves, although the temptation to get away from this clearly unhinged woman was mighty; especially considering the unbelievable pain she'd just been in; she could only hope that this... this witchcraft, whatever it was, that the wild-haired woman had done to her hadn't somehow damaged her permanently. Lord only knew, it had felt as though her bones were being broken apart, like she was being completely unraveled inside.

Bellatrix nodded. In a sudden motion, she aimed the wand purposefully at the young woman again. She opened her mouth.

"What are you doing?" the woman asked, tensely. "You... please, you said you'd have mercy!"

Bellatrix cocked her head. "For a filthy Muggle like you, death is mercy," she said, pleased with herself. She winked conspiratorially. "Especially from me. So... Avada Kedavra!"

Bellatrix chuckled as the light fled from the woman's round, blue eyes. Well, that was done.

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Bellatrix sat at her kitchen table, wand held loosely in her right hand. It was tempting to speculate on which of her suitors had fathered the child, but finding out was probably not worth the trouble, since she had no intention of sharing it with anyone but the Dark Lord himself.

It was a thing she and Rodolphus had tried for many times over the course of their marriage; not that either of them were particularly tender-hearted, and certainly not for the pitter-patter of little feet or any of that nonsense, but simply because the wizarding race was dwindling. With each generation, the blood was thinning; there were, in the Lestranges' opinion, far too few purebloods remaining. But it had never happened; she hadn't known, at the time, if it was his defect or hers, but they had never been able to produce a child.

It had been hard, when he was killed. Not because of any particular emotional attachment she held, but because he'd been killed by a dirty blood-traitor, one of Alastor Moody's half-blooded Auror prodigies, and Bellatrix had yet to return the favor. Narcissa had been pressing her, of late, to marry Rabastan, but Bellatrix had no intentions of doing so. She had done what was expected of her, and married a pureblooded wizard, once. They hadn't produced a child, and now he was gone. She needed to avenge his death, but that was all she felt she owed him.

The child, though... she felt they'd been on the right track there. And it had come to her, months after Rodolphus had been murdered, that it wasn't too late; was perhaps even better this way. Rodolphus had not been much of a duelist - that was why he'd died. In fact, as she reflected, there was not much to say for him, save that his blood was as pure as her own.

But she was, in her way, a beautiful woman, and she could have her pick of donors, as it were, for her child.

There had been quite a few of them, none of whom were worth her time or attention, but she doled out just enough of it, anyway. If she'd been looking for perfection, she would have remained childless, but she'd had to look at the situation objectively. There were a few in the Dark Lord's inner circles that had talents worth cultivating; a few were excellent duelists, for instance, and one had such a talent for Transfiguration that he had become an Animagus. Then, of course, there was the other one... the half-Mudblood. That had been distasteful, though more than a little fun. More importantly, there was no denying that he was a skilled wizard, and he was close to the Dark Lord, for reasons Bellatrix couldn't fully understand.