A/N: I've had the idea for this particular story bouncing around through my head for years. So I finally decided to put pen to paper (or rather, finger to keyboard), and write it out. It's going to be a multi-chapter story, so if you decide to stick around, be ready for an adventure. While I cannot commit to consistent weekly updating (I'm a full-time college student and I also work part-time), this story has become something like a baby to me, so I will update it as often as I can. Please feel free to leave a comment; I love receiving feedback!

Now, without further ado, I give you the Prologue of Blessed Anathema.

Prologue

December 27, 1985

Piercing the subtle quiet of a darkened winter night, the cries of a woman – young and determined – awakened the wolves that stalked the countryside surrounding her location. Their howls cut the wind that whipped through the trees. When the cries finally settled to nothing more than mere whimpers, the night quieted once again. Snow fell in light tufts to blanket the ground.

Inside a manor atop a hill that overlooked the countryside was a woman who held her swollen belly with both hands. She wore a nightdress of black silk that was made darker still by the fluid that had dispelled from her womb. House elves surrounded her on all sides of the king-sized bed while even more fetched warm water and soft towels.

The young woman took a gasping breath and clenched her teeth. Her eyes sought out her favorite – Bella, a young elf with wider than normal blue eyes and a narrow nose.

"W-Where's Tom?"

Bella nervously rung her hands. "We's already called the Dark Master, miss. We's called him twice, we have." Her elven companions nodded in agreement.

"And my sisters?"

"Here."

The young woman looked up in joy as her eldest sister practically floated into the room, platinum blond hair immaculate as always. Her icy blue eyes contrasted starkly against her warm and welcoming smile. She bent to give her baby sister a kiss on the forehead. "Bellatrix is tied up with a few things, currently. She'll be along soon, I hope."

Narcissa moved from her sister's side to begin examining her youngest sister's belly and cervix. Though she had no professional experience as a midwife, she had been there to deliver all of Bellatrix's babies (though they had all been stillborn).

"Maybe it's for the best she hasn't shown yet," the young woman panted with a wince. "I need calm energy."

Narcissa chuckled lightly. "She'd hex you if she ever heard you say that, Kareena."

Before the mother-to-be could respond, she felt a sharp pain burn like fire inside her head. It momentarily blinded her, distracting her from the pain in her nether regions. The pain was intense, unlike anything she'd ever felt before. It didn't even come close to comparing to the Cruciatus Curse. She attempted to lift her hands to her head to massage the pain out of her temples, but her arms felt like lead. Her mouth went dry and she gasped once more for air.

Then, without warning, the pain was gone. She was left with only the dull ache of her dilating cervix. Narcissa, who was too focused on the baby who would arrive any moment, had not noticed the excruciating discomfort her sister was in. It was Bella who noticed. The little elf was immediately by her mistress, stroking her wild curly blond hair. She picked up a glass of cool water and brought it to Kareena's lips.

As Kareena was drinking, she noticed a presence in the doorway.

"Tom."

Narcissa's eyes also flickered to the doorway. She rose and bowed her head as low as it could go. "My Lord."

Tom Riddle walked gracefully into the room. He stood taller than anyone else – slender, sleek, and strong. Not at all unlike a panther. His dark eyes locked with warm blue. He briefly glanced at Narcissa and the elves. "Please leave us for a moment."

"My Lord," Narcissa said, without making eye contact, "the baby will be here at any given moment. Her contractions are mere minutes apart."

"I'm well aware of where she is in the… process," Tom stated calmly. "I need to speak to her alone for a few minutes. Please leave us. I'll come get you when we're through."

Narcissa nodded, standing up from her place at the foot of Kareena's bed. She exited the room, house elves filing out the door behind her.

When they were gone and the door had shut, the Dark Lord bent his head and enveloped Kareena's lips in a soft kiss. It was tender and loving. Since she was 17 years old, he showed a side of himself to her that he wouldn't allow anyone else to see.

"How are you, my love?" he asked.

Kareena let out a soft sigh, the pain of another contraction creeping up on her. "Alright, for now. Truth be told, I'm scared, Tom."

Tom's lips formed a smirk. "You? Scared? Why, I thought I'd never see the day."

She pushed him, playfully, chuckling at his teasing. He smiled softly and laid a pale, spindly hand on her belly, his lithe fingers splaying across her stomach. The baby inside responded instantly, jumping at her father's touch and wriggling as though she already knew her place in his life. His breath caught in his throat and he cleared it in an attempt to play it off. Kareena rested her hand on his own, looking up at him lovingly.

"Thank you for being here, Tom," she said, using her other hand to stroke his cheek.

He caught her hand in his own and brought it to his lips to kiss it lightly. "There's no place else I'd rather be."

Another contraction crippled Kareena, and she moaned in pain.

Frowning, Tom stated, "There's a potion that would relieve this pain, you know."

Kareena shook her head slowly. "You know I wanted to do this naturally. No magic. Remember what happened to Joan Spierwarth?"

"Yes, love," Tom said, exasperatedly. "I remember. You've only reminded me several dozen times. Headstrong wench."

Before Kareena could retort, once again, another contraction blindsided her. The pain was getting very intense, a sign that the baby would surely be in arms in the next hour or so. Tom noted her pain, and stood, giving her one final kiss on the forehead before exiting the room. Moments later, Narcissa reentered the room with an exuberant Bellatrix, several house elves, and a single shaking midwife who (no doubt) was likely snatched on her way home from St. Mungo's.

"It's time to deliver my niece," Narcissa said coolly, laying a hand lightly on Kareena's head in comfort.

"Don't hurt our ickle little Kari-kins, or the Cruciatus Curse will feel like a mere stinging hex," Bellatrix said with a cackle.

Held at wand point, the midwife proceeded with delivering the baby.

Her crying had soothed to soft whimpers. Tom held the bundle tightly in his arms, unwilling to let go. A warmth grew in the pit of stomach and crawled its way throughout the rest of his body, reaching each of his limbs.

She was absolutely perfect. Her dark emerald green eyes were wide with wonderment, the thrum of infant magic radiating off of her tiny body. Her hair – much like his own – was a mess of dark brown curls that sat daintily atop her head. He ran his fingers through her hair – it was so soft, like duck fluff. Unlike anything he'd experienced before.

"Tom?"

He looked up at his wife, who was laying mere inches from him. He used one hand to brush a blond curl out of her face.

"You did excellent, my dear," he murmured. "She is healthy… strong. More importantly, the blood running through her veins is pure."

"I do have impeccable genes, don't I?" Kareena said with a laugh.

The dawn was not met with a spectacular display of watercolor oranges, reds, and pinks. The sky was gray, the clouds dark. Snow had blanketed the ground. Soft white light reflected against the mounds of fluff, giving it the appearance of pearls glistening in milky water.

Tom shifted in bed. It was chilly in the room; he would have to remember to have a larger hearth installed in the room. His eyes remained closed as he reflected on the night before. He was a father. A father and a husband. The thought absolutely terrified him, although he would not admit it to anyone… not even himself. His childhood had been filled with abuse of nearly every nature. His father died a bitter, angry drunk who took his pain and frustrations out on his only son. Tom spent the majority of his childhood in a dark muggle orphanage. His tormentors there were not limited to the other orphans. The wet nurses and other staff held the place with an iron fist. If one child stepped out of line, they would receive thirty lashes.

No, his child would have better. She would grow, beautifully, under the finest tutors and duelists. She would know love from both of her parents. She would want for absolutely nothing, though she would still know the value of hard work and dedication.

Tom let out a light breath that was immediately cut short when he finally realized he was alone in the bed. He say upright, snapping his head to the left. Kareena was missing. He dared to peer into the crib that rested at the foot of the bed.

They were both gone. The window that led to the outside balcony was opened, curtains fluttering in the light wind. Suddenly, the cold of the room made sense to him.

A sickening feeling sat in the pit of his stomach. He roared, sparks of unfiltered and unchecked magic erupting from his fingertips. He flew out of bed and down the winding staircase, confused and concerned house elves trailing behind him. He pushed through the heavy cherry oak doors and was met with a burst of cold air which his thin black robes did nothing to protect against.

"Kareena!" his scream echoed throughout the entirety of the grounds of Riddle Manor. When the house elves realized what his desperation was in regards to, they immediately fanned out, looking for the lost woman and child. Bella turned on her heel to Apparate inside the manor where she used the Floo system in the foyer to call all of the Dark Lord's followers to Riddle Manor.

"Enough of this," the Dark Lord hissed. "Locus serpentem desidero."

The incantation (one of his own creation, of course) caused his entire body temperature to drop below freezing. The path to Kareena's location revealed itself in musty green smoke. He followed. It led him several yards to the east, up a gently sloping hill. Interestingly enough, there were no footprints in the snow, though there were droplets of blood that were easy enough to track. He steadied himself and hardened his demeanor, preparing himself for the worst.

When he reached the top of the hill, he found his wife, naked from head to toe, swaying gently with his daughter at the bottom of the hill.

"Kareena?" he whispered.

She looked up at him. He immediately saw that her eyes were not her own. Her beautiful warm blue pupils had been replaced by milky white ones. He didn't know what to make of this magic.

"Kareena, come to me."

She looked away from him, towards the woods in the distance. She then looked down at the bundle in her arms, giving her a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Kareena?"

She sat the now crying baby down in the snow and quickly backed away from them both. Tom flew down the hill, scooping his child into his arms.

"KAREENA."

She ignored him once more as she began levitating in the air. Without warning, the flaming arms of a phoenix enveloped her. She screamed once and it was the most heart-wrenching sound he'd ever had to endure. No amount of magic he tried could stop what was happening before his very eyes... and he tried everything he could think of, short of killing her himself to end her pain. The smell of burning flesh made him wretch and gag. The baby was absolutely terrified but there was nothing he could do to comfort her.

And just like that, it was over.

Ashes fell softly to the ground, almost like snow. The morning was quiet once again, save for the crying child in his arms. He walked over to the ash that was once his beloved wife. He turned away, unable to bear it.

His followers all stood atop the hill, watching him in fear of his impending wrath. Had they witnessed the same scene he had?

Bella slowly – and quite bravely – stepped down the hill.

"I can take the babe, my Lord," she said, voice firm.

Tom looked down at the child in his hands. His stomach turned. She looked exactly like what he'd just lost. He couldn't handle it. He needed to kill someone. He needed to see blood.

"Yes," he finally stated. "Please do. Tell me, elf, is that midwife from the previous night still in the dungeon?"

A/N: I really hope you all liked the beginning part of this story! It is in no way even close to done yet. Don't forget to leave a review; I enjoy feedback of all kinds. I'll attempt to have Chapter 1 uploaded sometime within the next week (no promises)!