Hera

{Chapter One}

It was a peaceful morning as the birds on the trees sang and Narcissa's garden danced with the slight breeze. The two children running around and between the bushes screamed and laughed in glee as they chased each other.

The bright blue of Hera's dress stood out from the green of the Manor's garden. The girl trailed behind her lighter-haired cousin, inspecting the fauna that bloomed in the late summer morning. The young girl held a blooming daisy to her nose, taking in the attractive, yet subtle scent of the flower. Draco was entertaining a small hound that he had recently received on his birthday.

Narcissa sat in the pavilion that overlooked the garden, enjoying a morning cup of tea as she watched over the two children. It had almost been eleven years since Bellatrix and Rodolphus had left Hera in her care. Luckily they did so, or misfortune would have befell the child, the Lestrange couple had been apprehended as soon as the Dark Lord had fell.

She looked almost exactly like her mother, but had the eyes of her father. The curly hair, was pulled into a neat ponytails and the white patch on the crown of her head, was a birthmark. It was a badge of the "Dark Lord's blessing" said Rodulphous when he held his infant daughter for the first time.

The story of how little Cassiopeia was conceived was not known to many, as everyone knew how Bellatrix was barren. After trying for so many years for there to be a heir for the Lestrange bloodline who was very close to extinct, Bellatrix had given up and used all her focus on serving the Dark Lord with undying dedication.

Her husband, Rodulphous - who also served the Dark Lord faithfully - still yearned for an heir. After achieving such a difficult task, and much sacrifice, he had been rewarded by the Dark Lord. He had gifted him with a potion that would cure Bellatrix's barren state so that a worthy heir will be produced to serve him in the next generation.

Narcissa was skeptical. She was not an avid member of the Death Eaters like her husband, and did not have any interest in it, but she knew the repercussions of not following the Dark Lord's will.

After Rodulphous and Bellatrix had been caught, and sentenced to Azkaban and the fall of the Dark Lord, Cassiopeia-Hera was sent to live with the Malfoys.

She was young and naive, the total opposite of her mother. But Narcissa was tasked to be the one to shape Cassiopeia into the witch the Dark Lord had willed her to be, and Lucius could not care less about the girl.

Draco and Cassiopeia were young. She wanted to keep their innocence from the cruel dark world. Especially when the Dark Lord was on his journey back to revival. She wished that she could just lock them in a treasure chest where they'd be kept safe from harm, but life couldn't be that way.

Suddenly all the laughter ceased and she looked up from her teacup. Looking around for the two children. She spotted them standing before Lucius, who seemed to have a scowl etched on to his face. "And what are you two doing?" He asked the eleven-year-olds as they stood silently before him.

"W-we were playing uncle." Answered Hera in her innocent voice. She was looking at her shoes. She knew they weren't supposed to be playing and so did Draco.

The look of disappointment was plastered onto his face. "It is not time for games. We ought to get your things ready for school. Get to the carriage."

Silently, the two nodded their heads and walking off to the carriage. Narcissa looked to her husband, "Is it necessary to disturb their fun like that Lucius?"

Lucius looked to his wife, "Not when we have things to do. Let us go."

And with that he left.

Narcissa and Hera decided to head to Olivanders, to buy a wand for the young black-and-white haired girl. As they entered the shop, the bell rang, signalling their arrival. A wild white haired old man looked up to see the duo.

A gasp came from his mouth as he looked at the only daughter of the Death Eaters Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. His breath seemed to have gotten stuck in his throat as he coughed. "Mrs Malfoy, quite a sight to see you again."

She only gave him a tight-lipped smile before he turned his attention to Hera, "And who might you be?"

Shyly, the young girl smiled. "Cassiopeia-Hera Lestrange. Nice to meet you." Her voice was soft and sweet, nothing out of the ordinary.

Alas, with a name comes identity and power. The Lestranges, known as the part of the Pure Twenty-Eight. Generations of pure magical blood flowing in their veins. Known for their allegiance to the Dark Lord.

And this young girl, was the youngest of her lineage, it all depended on her to continue the sanctity of her bloodline.

All men are afraid of something. Be it death or be it height. They will always be afraid. Fear consumes people, some more earlier than other, but fear can be overcome. When you choose to ignore it.

Garrick Ollivander stared at the the child before him, noting the similarities she shared with her mother. "How may I help you, little miss?"

Hera looked up at Narcissa, who had an unsure look upon her face. She tugged her aunt's cloak in attempt for her attention. Narcissa looked at her niece and slightly shook her head before walking forward to the counter.

The old man slightly flinched but had a small smile placed onto his face as he saw the innocence of a little girl who has yet to learn of the harsh world around her.

He got up immediately and searched for a wand similar to her mother's own. Taking up the box, he handed it to her, "Try this one, miss."

Hera held it in her hand, unsure of what to do. She looked to the old man then to Narcissa. "Wave it." Said the old man who stop beside her, cautiously.

He finally found the box and returned to his customers. "Maybe this will be the one?" He suggested. Hera cautiously took the wand from his hand and gave it a slight wave. Sparks flew out of the tip yet again, hitting the glass mirror that was set upon the wall. Shards of glass flew everywhere and Hera used her hands to cover her face from harm.

The old man shook his head and took the wand away from her. He went back to the back, looking for one similar to her father's wand. He had crafted the wand not too long ago, knowing that the wand would be needed in the near future.

He walked to the wooden counter where Narcissa and Cassiopeia-Hera stood, patiently waiting for a wand. He uncovered the mundane redwood box revealing a wand.

"Redwood, rigid and 13.5 inches. This has a beautiful strand of dragon heart string. This was made in likeness of your father's own wand."

Hera took the wand gently into her hands and gave it a gentle wave. She felt a spark course through the wand, through her arms to her heart. She felt as if it were another body part.

She looked up to the old man, a wide smile broke out onto her soft cheeks as he returned the grin with his own wrinkled lips. "How does it feel?"

"It feels..." Hera paused. "It feels wonderful!"

"Marvelous! This wand has chosen you, which must mean you will be much like your father." He grinned as Hera looked up excitedly at the older gentleman.

This statement made Narcissa freeze. She had always dismissed telling Hera about her mother and father, who resided in Azkaban for their allegiance to the Dark Lord. The mention of her father would invoke a new curiosity in Hera about her parents, and Narcissa couldn't have that.

She needed to shield Hera from the destiny the Dark Lord had determined for her, even if it meant changing her warrior status to one that is similar to her own.

Domesticated.