The manor was quiet when the news came.
A single night — a single prophecy — and everything changed.
Father returned broken. His magic erupted in wild agony before… collapsing into nothing. The greatest wizard alive, reduced to a wandering spirit.
The moment the Dark Mark dimmed, his followers scattered like rats fleeing a sinking ship.
I felt the shift in fate like a blow to the chest.
It happened.Lily's sacrifice worked.The plot remained intact.
For now.
Death Eaters burst into the nursery, frantic and breathless. They grabbed me, wrapped me in a heavy cloak embroidered with silver serpents, and apparated away.
When the disorientation faded, I found myself in a new crib — this one carved from enchanted oak and lined with Slytherin-green silk.
Malfoy Manor.
Lucius Malfoy stood above me with his cane resting proudly beneath both hands. Regal. Cold. Calculating. He examined me like one might examine a rare artifact.
"You are the Dark Lord's chosen heir," he said quietly. "His only blood. And now… my responsibility."
His tone was distant, cautious — but beneath the surface I sensed fear.
Not of me — not yet.
Of what I represented.
The future.
Narccisa Malfoy entered next — softer eyes, pale elegance, a calculating mind concealed behind warmth. She knelt beside my crib and brushed a blond curl from my cheek.
"You are family," she whispered. "A Black, like me. I will protect you."
For the first time in this life, I felt something almost like comfort.
At least I wouldn't be raised as Dumbledore's project. At least the Light wouldn't poison my destiny. Lucius might be ruthless, but he understood loyalty to power. He understood ambition.
He would teach me politics.Manipulation.Control.
He would make me unstoppable.
Even now, the potions still worked their influence through my veins. My morality eroded steadily, layer by layer. I could feel my strategic mind sharpening, adapting to the new circumstances.
Father was gone for now.I could not be seen as his weakness.
I must become his legacy.
I must become the weapon the world feared most.
A lullaby hummed through the room — Narcissa's voice soft and soothing — but my thoughts were vicious and clear:
I would rebuild what crumbled tonight.
Dumbledore would celebrate.Harry Potter would sleep peacefully in his crib.
Let them.
Let them believe the nightmare is over.
Because when Father returns…he will not return alone.
He will have a daughter forged in poison and brilliance.A strategist born of war.A queen with no mercy.
And the world will kneel to the Dark Lord—
and his Dark Princess.