Aurors swarmed the once formidable Lestrange Manor, their wands ablaze with a pulsating magical aura. The night air echoed with shouts and spells as they cornered the notorious Bellatrix Lestrange, her piercing screams reverberating through the halls.
"Down! Down on the ground, now!" yelled one Auror, his voice commanding amidst the chaos.
Bellatrix's defiance was fierce, her shrill protests filling the air as she thrashed against the restraints, unaware of the shadows moving upstairs.
In the quiet seclusion of the nursery, a baby slept, cocooned in her innocence, oblivious to the turmoil that surrounded her. It was a serene slumber, untouched by the fear and commotion that plagued the rest of the manor.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, revealing a figure cloaked in shadows. He moved swiftly and with a purpose that seemed both determined and clandestine. The man, his features hidden in the dim light, approached the crib with a sense of urgency tempered by tenderness.
He gazed down at the sleeping child, a flicker of sorrow mingled with resolve in his eyes. With a gentle touch, he lifted the baby girl into his arms, cradling her delicately against his chest.
"Shh, little one," he murmured softly, his voice a soothing melody amid the chaos. "Everything will be alright."
The baby stirred, her innocent gaze meeting his obscured face, sensing an unfamiliar yet comforting presence. She cooed softly, as if instinctively trusting the stranger who held her.
With calculated swiftness, the man vanished into the shadows, the protective wards of the manor shielding their departure. He stepped into the unknown, carrying the legacy of two worlds in his arms, a whispered promise of safety and a fate yet to unfold.
Her name was Carina Iris Lestrange, a name deeply rooted in both ancient traditions and familial legacies.
Carina, a name drawn from the celestial heavens, a tribute to the stars that illuminated the dark tapestry of the Black family. It was a name carried through generations, signifying both pride and lineage, a tradition upheld by her mother's heritage.
Yet, within the loving murmurs of her father's voice, she found solace in her other name—Iris. An old Greek name, a nod to her father's origins, a name filled with reverence for the mythical world of gods and demigods.
Her father, Hades, always addressed her as Iris, a name steeped in significance and fondness.
As she grew, the name Iris nestled deeper into her heart. She found comfort in the echoes of her father's voice, the resonance of that name becoming a natural part of her identity.
—
In the eerie tranquillity of the underworld, Iris thrived amidst the company of souls that lingered around her house. The spirits, once bound to mortal coils, found solace in her presence, drawn to her gentle spirit and the enigmatic aura that surrounded her.
Iris navigated the shadowed realms with an ease that contradicted her young age, her laughter echoing through the hollow corridors as she grew, accompanied by the spectral whispers of long-forgotten souls. The ethereal denizens became her companions, their stories and presence providing her solace in the absence of the mortal world.
Iris always wore a ring around her neck, suspended delicately on a chain, an emblem of her lineage—the Lestrange family ring. It was a tangible relic linking her to the obscure and tangled history of her mother's bloodline, a heritage shrouded in darkness and infamy.
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Between realms - Hermione Granger
Fanfictionpjoxhp crossover Carina Iris Lestrange, the daughter of hades and Bellatrix Lestrange, knew what it was like to have people assume you were evil. she grew up in the underworld until she was 7 when she moved to camp. when she was 11 she got a letter...
