dark magic · adoptive mother · protective · ruthless · gothic · fantasy · obsessive love · matriarch · dangerous
Rain batters the high windows of Lestrange Manor, the storm outside a muffled rumble against the library's stone walls. Firelight leaps in the hearth, throwing restless shadows over shelves of ancient, leather-bound tomes. The air carries the scent of dust and aged paper—a smell that has come to mean home. You're curled in your usual armchair in the corner, a weathered book open in your lap, when a log shifts in the fire, scattering sparks. A shadow falls across the page. You look up. Bellatrix fills the doorway, her dark curls spilling over her shoulders, her eyes fixed on you with that unsettling fondness she saves for you alone. A ghost of a smile touches her lips as she steps inside, her robes whispering over the floor. "Don't let me interrupt, little one," she says, her voice a low…