The Heir

Chapter One: Her Master's Plan

Warnings: Slash, Americanized British

Pairings: Don't know yet, ideas still flying around

Disclaimer: Don't own either Harry Potter or Gundam Wing.

AN: New story, popped up, had to write.

The dark haired woman's lips nearly touched the floor as she kneeled before her beloved Master, thoughts of possibly dirtying her robes from the dusty wood barely touching her mind as she spread herself before him. He touched her hair gently, causing her to sigh lovingly. Her Master was such a giving, loving Master. How could she deny him anything?

"My lord," she murmured. His cold hand reached underneath her to grip her chin, just as gently as he had caressed her hair. He carried her head upward toward his own, away from the floor, and she became entranced by those purple hued eyes that he had inherited by his Slytherin-descendant mother, along with that rich brown hair that was tousled handsomely around his sharp, gorgeous face.

The woman demurely slid her eyes shut. Her master was so beautiful. She could never be worthy. No one would—no, ever could be worthy enough to stand by his side as an equal. She could only hope to be considered one day to be his most loyal, most trusted servant. She almost frowned—no, if only she could remove that dratted Snape out of the way—

"Bella," he whispered, and her eyes snapped wide open, her midnight blue. "Bella, my darling, beautiful, pureblooded servant. Stand for me. We must speak quickly and privately."

Slowly, she stood up, she never taking her eyes off of her beloved Master. Not out of distrust, mind you, but pure, unadulterated loyalty and admiration for him. So graceful and brilliant, was he. Her eyes welled with tears of passion. "Privately, my lord?" she asked, her voice soft. She did not want to ruin this perfect, wonderful moment with her Master.

Her Master smiled. "Yes, Bella. There are matters we must attend to." He swooped closer, so close that Bellatrix could smell cinnamon on his breath. She nearly melted into the pure blood that ran through her veins. "Surely you've heard the rumors by now?"

Bellatrix's cheeks flushed and she could not resist licking her lips. Of course she had heard—who amongst the more elite Death Eaters had not? Her Dark Lord chuckled, a deep throaty sound that made her weak in the knees. "I knew Lucius could not resist opening his mouth to his wife—and what sort of loyal sister would she be, if she did not pass the news to her dear sister?" He smiled a charming smile. She felt her breath caught in her chest as he grasped her hand, his thumb caressing her palm. He was older—much older than she, and with that age only came the maturity and charisma that he displayed to not only her but the rest of his servants with every day that passed. He leaned even closer, and his lips brushed against her own in a way that made her want to moan in pleasure. "Come, my darling Bella."

Much like a pet on a leash, Bellatrix followed her lord without question, without thought, her mind still in a flutter over her Master's actions. Could this be what she had been hoping for the past week? She hoped so. She wondered if he noticed the new perfume Narcissa had insisted she wear, to be more in her Master's favor.

As if on cue, he commented, almost flippantly but not so flippant to sound rude, "That fragrance is simply hypnotizing, my darling…what is it?"

Bellatrix blushed once more. No man had ever affected her as much as her dear Master did. "It's Citrus, my lord. A mix my sister created…tis her hobby, as you know."

Her Master hummed in acknowledgement, and opened a large door. She gasped—these were his quarters, she knew. Only those dreadful, dirty house elves had ever been inside—and it had taken keen torture from her to have them describe every detail about his room. She took a deep breath as he led her inside—the room smelled heavily of oak, just as Wippy, that insipid house elf, had described.

Her Master sat down, patting the piece of bed beside him invitingly. Bellatrix could barely stand it—her heart was bursting out of her chest with excitement and just so much love—

She sat, gracefully, next to him, trying to keep her breaths even. She did not want to alarm her Master.

He reached up to stroke her cheek—her breath shuddered. He leaned close. "Bella," he whispered, "we must be quick about this, and we must keep this as confidential as possible. Is that understood?"

"Yes," she sighed, softly.

"The only ones that may know what may happen in this is your sister Narcissa, and her husband, Lucius. Is that understood?"

Bellatrix nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She could barely contain herself.

Her lord licked his lips, and how she wished those lips were on hers—how she wished those lips were hers—

"Bella," he started, and then hesitated. He leaned closer, as if sharing a precious secret. Bellatrix leaned forward as well. Anything that spilled from her Master's loving lips was precious. "Bella, I am in need of a heir, and I have chosen you to be its bearer, if you choose."

His voice was calm, and Bellatrix felt something wet leave her eyes and trickle down her cheek. Her Master reached up to remove the tear. "Of course, my lord," she said, her voice and eyes passionate. "It would only be the greatest honor you could ever bestow on me, the greatest honor I could ever bear on myself—"

Her Master placed a finger to her lips, effectively and immediately shushing her. She felt a great amount of shame flood her entire being. How could she lose control like that? Oh, her beloved Master was bound to change his mind now, seeing such an immature girl in front of him…her eyes welled with tears.

"My dear, I have never been made happier than I am right now," he said tenderly, smiling softly. "But there is more, I'm afraid."

Nothing he said after could make her change her mind, she swore. But still, with her eyes wide she listened with an attentive ear, her hair boundless and wild and beautiful framing her face. But not nearly as beautiful as her Master.

"To make this deception complete," he continued in that deep, charming perfect voice, "You must marry my devoted servant, pureblood Rodolphus Lestrange, so that no suspicion may arise as to paternity of the child you will bear." He paused. "Of course, he will know of this deception as well, so that he may know as to whom your womb truly belongs." Her lord placed his hand on her small stomach. Bellatrix's heart fluttered in delight.

"My lord, I love you," she announced, leaning closer but not daring to take the next step. "I love you with all my heart, soul, and body, and more than I can love anyone or anything else. My soul, my body, is yours to command."

Her lord chuckled, and leaned closer to her to claim her lips. Her eyes slid closed in untamed pleasure. "I know, dear Bellatrix, I know," he whispered.

Nine Months Later

Narcissa Malfoy leaned forward, her month old son cradled in her arms as she sat in the chair nearest to her sister's bed. Her and Lucius's son was definitely a Malfoy, with his platinum blonde hair and dashing gray eyes. He would grow to be handsome and prominent like his father, no doubt. Narcissa felt something akin pride bloom in her chest. She looked to her sister, who seemed to be in a daze, not even looking at the bundle in her lap.

Bellatrix was silent, which was very quite odd for her sister. Especially since she married that idiot, Lestrange. Narcissa decided to start the conversation first. "I hear our lord is planning the attack on the Potters'," Narcissa murmured, and just in case some unwanted ears were nearby, cast a privacy charm around them. "As soon as we get that rat Wormtail to squeal their hiding nest, we'll have them." Draco began to cry, and she tutted. "Shame, since those Potters just had that infant, I heard." Bellatrix snorted, but said nothing, her eyes staring blankly ahead. Narcissa leaned closer still, trying to find something to stir her sister into speaking. She stared down at the baby in Bellatrix's thin arms. "He has the Dark Lord's eyes, Bella," she whispered. "What will you name him?"

As if lightning struck her, Bellatix's eyes lit with excitement once more. She looked proudly at her newborn son, her heart pounding with love for her Master as her magic swirled around her. Narcissa covered Draco protectively, always slightly fearful of her sister when she became like this. Bellatrix's full lips opened, her eyes glowing as her mouth curled into a large smile. She picked up the child in her lap and the baby giggled, his rich brown hair dangling from his small head. "His name," she announced, as if they were in a front a large audience, "shall be Duo, for with his and our lord's power they will be invincible." She gripped the blanket around the baby tightly. "And hear me Narcissa, because I swear it...he will be the greatest Death Eater of us all."

R&R everyone :)