Chapter 1 - To Protect and Raise

Sirius felt the cold enter his bones as the aurors went away from his cell door. The pain inside he felt from what he'd seen the past twenty-four hours rose, pulled out by the soul-sucking demons that fed on it. He felt back at that place….

Sirius entered the cottage that James and Lily had lived in for the past few months. He'd already seen the roof blown off clear, and he could only desperately pray to whatever power might listen that not all of them were dead. First, in the drawing room, he found his best, only trustworthy friends, Prongs and Moony, dead. While it looked like James had taken a killing curse, the way Moony's body had been blasted apart almost made Sirius vomit. But he held it in. Perhaps, Lily or Harry….

He rushed up the stairs, heading for the nursery first. The first thing he saw was Lily - serene determination being her expression in death. She was exactly between the cot and the door - shot down by a killing curse she hadn't been able to dodge because her son was right behind her. Sirius knelt down, and closed her eyes so that she looked at least a bit more peaceful. Then he looked at the cot, and for the first time, he felt a shade of relief. Harry was breathing. The poor boy's face was covered in blood, but he was breathing. He took out his wand before he really knew what he was doing, and cleaned up the little pup. There was an ugly lightning bolt in the middle of his forehead. Sirius cast a detection charm, and then a few more specific ones. There was… something wrong. It wasn't exactly dark magic, but there was a foreign… energy? Not magic at least. He tried to peel it out, and after a few minutes, managed. A black cloud drew from the child's wound, and disappeared with a shriek.

That wasn't ominous at all.

A simple episkey was sufficient to heal his godson. He'd have to take the kid with him. Even though it tore his heart that he'd have to leave the dead bodies of the people he cared most about to cool, he knew that each and every one of the three would want him to prioritize Harry.

He packed the kid's toys, clean clothes, and other belongings, putting it into a large bag and shrinking it down. Then he picked it up along with the little tyke, and carefully moved downstairs. Outside, he met Hagrid. Dumbledore had send the half-giant in order to check for any survivors, and had portkeys ready which would take them to the Hogwarts hospital wing - since a few patients at St. Mungo's had been assassinated, the Order send any of their own to Hogwarts for safety.

"Sirius!" Hagrid's deep voice sounded tight and panicked. "What happened?"

Sirius shook his head. He didn't want to say it… he couldn't break down yet, Harry wasn't safe yet.

"All gone. Just Harry survived..." Sirius mostly succeeded in suppressing a sob.

"Give him, Sirius. I'll get him to Hogwarts. Have madam Pomphrey check him out."

Sirius was suddenly split. Half of him wanted to take him to Grimmauld Place - no matter how much he hated his ancestral home, it was HIS and it was the most protected place he could think of - including Hogwarts. But Pomphrey wouldn't be able to come over… not now.

"I'll come to get him in a few hours, then. I'm going to track down and kill a rat."

He carefully handed over Harry to Hagrid, along with the bag with all the boy's possessions.

Well, that hadn't gone that well. Thirteen muggles blown up, but with plenty survivors to frame Sirius with. And he'd trusted the disgusting little rodent! He should have eaten him as soon as he managed the transformation. Merlin knew Padfoot had drooled for it at the first time.

Sirius tried to calm himself. He'd get a trial and get out, right?

Pretty please?

He sighed, his body heat seeping out in the presence of the dementors. Of course he wouldn't. A few death eaters they'd been really sure about had had 'delayed' trials. But everyone knew that they probably wouldn't get theirs ever. Unforgivables had been witnessed. Courts were already overworked.

No, he could not bet Harry's safety on the ministry's justice system. Should he escape? Probably both hard and the best way to get a manhunt underway. And that was if he could figure out a way to do it. Which was a rather big if - nobody had ever escaped azkaban.

How long had it been? Must have been around twenty hours since he'd found the ruin of the cottage. It felt like weeks at least.

So what could he do, what did he have? Just one thing. He was Lord Black.

The family magic from the Blacks was as dark as their name. Or worse, actually. The core of the magic was hidden somewhere in a cave in england - under a modified Fidelius. Whoever was Lord Black was the secret keeper. And every Member of the House of Black was linked into it. Lord Black basically had the key to some… options. Now, he was happier than ever that he'd convinced James to link Harry into it, just like James had been by his mother, Dorea Potter nee Black.

The most desperate of these was referred to as the Patronus. The irony being that it was really rare if a Black could cast one, while it shared its name with their most desperate option. And the time had come.

He sat up straight, and drew magic out to his fingertips, softly putting his hands together.

"I, Lord Sirius Orion of the House of Black, designate as my heir, Harry James Black."

Of course, his public name was Harry Potter. But what mattered here was that he had the right to call himself a Black.

"I, Lord Sirius Orion of the House of Black, hereby call for the core of our house. Send a Protector for my Heir, that he may be Lord."

The magic pulled. Excruciating pain exceeding a thousand crucio's flashed through Sirius' body as his magic was ripped away along with his life force.

But that was irrelevant. While in Azkaban, he would not be able to protect Harry. But now, the eldest child of the House of Black would protect his godson.

Bellatrix gasped as she felt the pure magic of the House of Black surround her. A warm, comforting pain shot up through her spine, and it felt like her head boiled in delightful agony. When the feeling faded, she noticed she had dropped to the ground.

"Bellatrix?" Her husband looked concerned at her.

"Are you alright? Our lord will need us to be sharp. We cannot stumble where we're going."

She shook her head. What was going on? Oh, right. She, her husband, her brother in law, and the Crouch boy would interrogate those Longbottom Aurors about where Lord Voldemort had gone, to bring him back. No, not Lord Voldemort. There was only one Lord for her, and that was Lord Black.

She couldn't have anybody fine out where Voldemort was. Voldemort would be a threat to Lord Harry, after all. He himself had told her that he wanted Lord Harry to die.

"Yeah, I'm fine. This won't happen again." She answered his question.

So the Patronus had been activated… she was almost giddy with excitement. She had been appointed as the Regent Protector of House Black, the more pure and most important House in existence. She waited until her husband had his back turned.

So he wanted to bring Voldemort back? Nobody would threaten her Lord. The audacity.. She hated him for it.

Avada Kedavra

A light as green as the redheaded mudblood's eyes lanced to her husband as she tasted the sweet, soft taste of death in her mouth. Rudolphus Lestrange, her husband, dropped to the ground like the boneless sack of worthless flesh he was. She gathered the last bits of her combat preparation gear, and went to the drawing room. Rabastan, her brother in law, was in there making the last preparations.

"Rudy ready yet?"

Bellatrix nodded. "Almost."

Then Rabastan bend down to pick something off the floor.

Avada Kedavra

And there the one-to-last person directly threatening Lord Black dropped dead. Good riddance. As a nice bonus, she'd inherit the Lestrange fortune. As Regent Black, she could access the family fortune, but to be honest she'd rather spend Lestrange gold. Better keep the Black vaults pristine for when Lord Harry Black would finally gain access himself.

Fully prepared for combat, she apparated to their meeting point, where she easily cut down Crouch with another neat Killing Curse. Now, to find her charge…

She let her wand lay flat on the palm of her hand.

"I, Regent Protector Bellatrix of House Black, search for my Lord."

It turned, and pointed her in the right direction. Only the Protector as designated by the family magics could use this spell, to track down the one they were to protect. She apparated somewhere else, on a ninety degree angle from her measurement, and repeated the procedure. After a bit of mental triangulation and some trial and error, ten minutes later she was in the most disgustingly muggle neighborhood she'd ever seen. She shuddered. This was no place for a Lord Black to grow up. Wand on the palm of her hand, she followed the family magics. And there she found him. When close enough, she felt the magic inside her sing with her. The magic granted to her by the core of their family magics. It was inside of the boy as well.

Left on the doorstep of a muggle home? This was a disgrace… There was the child, and there was also a bag next to it. She looked in it - it looked like a lot of shrunken possessions of the child, including clothes and objects she only barely remembered the purpose of - Narcissa was only five years younger than she was herself. She grabbed the bag, and lifted the child.

"Everything is gonna be fine, my little Lord. Aunt Bella will protect you."

She disapparated.

She WOULD protect Lord Harry James Black, and she would raise him as well as she was able. Because that was what it meant to be the Regent Protector, as assigned by the family magic of House Black, by the order and lifeblood of the previous Lord. Which was probably that blood-traitor Sirius. But who cares. Now his magic was hers. All hers with the task to protect her Lord.

Bellatrix was a lot of things. She was a sadist. She was a powerful witch, even before she inherited Lord Black's magic. She was a talented and skilled duelist. She knew more dark magic than anybody, except possibly Voldemort himself. She was absolutely ruthless. But she was not stupid. And she had no clue how to raise a child. So she apparated to Grimmauld Place.

"Kreacher!"

"Regent Mistress Bellatrix, Kreacher is happy to serve." The elf mumbled.

"This is your Master, Lord Harry Black."

Kreacher looked confused. "Mistress brings filthy half-bl-"

"Crucio!"

After a few seconds, she lifted the spell. She didn't want the elf to become even more insane. Not much more, anyway.

"You dare call your Master, Lord Black, filthy? If it wasn't such a hassle to buy a new house-elf, you would die a very slow death right now!"

"Kreacher is sorry, Mistress. It wont happen again."

Harry started to cry for all the noise.

"And you woke him up with your pathetic whining! Crucio!"

She held it a few seconds longer this time. Damn, but it felt good to punish those who insulted or bothered her Lord Black.

"Kreacher, have you taken care of children before?"

"Kreacher.. puff... was instructed by his mentor, ...huff... and later learned more from Mistress Walburga …gargle… raising the blood traitor Sirius."

Bellatrix hushed up Harry, first, and then tapped her wand to her lips as she thought out loud.

"Walburga failed quite bad. You will not practice anything she taught you about it. Tomorrow, you'll take care of him for a bit while I'll be out."

She needed to figure it out, and it was clear the house-elf was lacking. Perhaps there were books about it. She'd always learned fast. Of course, practice learned it faster, but you made more mistakes - and she didn't want to make any avoidable mistakes raising Lord Black. So she'd find books about it.

"Kreacher, prepare the nursery for Lord Black, and the room next to it for me. In that order. You have five minutes for each. Starting right now."

"Yes Mistress." The little pest popped away. Bella looked down on the small child that was her Lord, and started gently rocking him.

"I'm going to make you a powerful Lord Black. Together, we will bring greatness to our family, and through that, to our entire world. Now sleep tight. Auntie Bella will take good care of you."

Once I figure out how to do that, she added silently. She slowly ascended the stairs with the boy, heading to where she remembered the nursery.

Kreacher made the five minute deadline she'd set. She undressed the child with some switching charms, but decided to leave the nappies on. That was how it should be, right? Not that she had any clue. Probably cleaner this way? But he'd have more freedom of movement without… decisions decisions. She decided to keep the nappies on for now. Could always take them off later. How old did a kid have to be again before this stopped being an issue?

She put him in the cot, which was richly decorated with black wood worked into beautiful shapes, like roses, wands, stars and skulls. She remembered it from when Narcissa slept in it.

Then she covered him with the blankets, and made sure they were sort of snug. He'd woken up, but Bellatrix managed to dredge up a lullaby from long ago, a traditional one from the black family which involved the child being able to sleep safely because she'd eviscerate any who threatened them. It was even more fitting with her being his Protector.

When he slept again, she softly walked to the adjacent room which Kreacher'd prepared, and got ready for bed. Standing next to it and about to lie down, she looked back.

If he woke up, would she hear it? She sure as hell wasn't going to rely on Kreacher, even if he should be reliable. Put her bed in his room? Probably not workable either. She went back to the nursery, and gently picked the boy up.

Probably easier to just… yeah, that way she would be completely unable to miss anything the child needed.

She lay down in her huge bed, the kid next to her. She curled around him protectively, and sang the lullaby again until she knew for sure he slept.

And this close, anyone wanting to hurt her Lord Black would have to go through her. And while she was fully willing to die for her Lord Black, she'd much rather kill for him. After all, if she died protecting him, then who would protect him afterwards? She stuck one wand under her pillow and the other in the soft leather holder on her thigh, and went to sleep. Tomorrow would be busy.