I saw this prompt on dw [community profile] hp_bunintheoven and had a fraction of a thought of using Bellatrix when she was pregnant with Delphini but nervous needed more than a few hundred words to work for me. If they seem OOC then...well I guess they do. Delphini's whole existence seems very OOC to me. The CC play seems very out there to me. So, in a way that makes the characters involved more fascinating to deal with. I'd like to think Voldemort was different with people he was closer to. We know Dumbledore was deeply flawed so it makes sense that his understanding of Voldemort could also be.

Pulling ever tighter at the black material she grinds her teeth together and scowls but it does not yield. The lining of the dress will no longer pass across the expanse of her stomach. The child is growing larger, stronger, and making Bellatrix's fears do the same. Motherhood had been something she was expected to do as part of her marriage but life had taken her down a different route which was filled with creeping into homes to murder and torture not around creaking floorboards that might wake an infant. Years of prison had put an end to her monthly cycle and upon release she had never had more than a day or so of light bleeding ever since. Nothing to suggest she might even be capable of carrying a child to term anymore. Thoughts of raising children were put aside and she gave herself over to the fight of changing the world in her Lord's image.

Being summoned to her Lord's chambers had been terrifying and exciting. Mostly terrifying but oh how she lived for that fear of being around him. To have been told she was doing this was the most precious reward for her service. She could not fail him. Terror had gripped her heart for the weeks it had taken for the pregnancy to take. She feared reacting the wrong way within his chambers and to his touch. She feared failing him. She feared her Lord had become so much more than she would ever be it would mean he could not give her a child. Her life would be forfeit the moment he realised such a thing if true. Yet she trusted in her bloodline. All her family was powerful, even those she would cast aside in an instant.

Regulus was a traitor, of the worst sort, but she could not deny the skill he had shown in doing so.

Sirius was powerful and untamed and it was a shame he could never be swayed to their side because oh, what fun they would have had together.

Narcissa had both kept herself on the family tree and out of prison which were feats amongst themselves and Andromeda had duelled her own father to escape the family home to marry that thing.

Andy's daughter was an Auror which showed her skill and Draco was on his way to whatever he wished to achieve with his life. Yes her bloodline would not fail either Bellatrix or her Lord but her body must hold.

Severus had pumped her full of potions to bring her back to strength though he had no idea why. Still, the most powerful of women lost children in the womb even as they pushed aside fabrics and struck kicks hard and true to the innards. Everything was in the hands of chance and the gods now.

No one knows. No one can.

That is why Bellatrix must drag the dress to the window seat and carefully undo the stitching with her wand. Charms only hold so long. It is better to redo the whole thing. Larger garments will be obtained for her once she has got larger still but for now it is her job. The others are told she is away on a great task for her Lord. No one would dare enter his part of the Malfoy estate anyway so she goes unnoticed. Part of her wants her sister by her side and the other gloats in how much privilege she finds herself in. Being alone in a limited space is nothing new to Bellatrix after all and here she has her wand, food and drink, and more importantly there are no dementors to contend with. There is only waiting to be summoned and the nervous energy that surrounds her because of it.

"It kicks strong."

The words would not be heard at the other side of the room but Bellatrix is always listening. Always carefully. She also has the benefit of being right next to the Dark Lord as he utters them, long skeletal fingers pressed to the dark blue fabric clinging to her growing stomach as he observes the child grow. A small bump has become a truly rounded swell as her fourth month progresses and as he does each week her Lord seeks her progress.

"Always, My Lord. The babe kicks often and hard. Moves too. It grows stronger."

"How could it not with parents such as The Dark Lord and his most faithful?" The fingers splay and Bellatrix feels the other hand curl around the base of her back and pull her closer. With delight she turns her face into his shoulder and revels in the feeling of his magic and his closeness. What wonderful torture this is! "I shall know its sex now, Bellatrix."

"Yes My Lord." Inside she is screaming but her mental shields hold firm. He pushes her from him and presses his wand to her stomach while she pushes down the instinct to draw her own wand and shield her stomach. Is that what people refer to as maternal feelings? She has no idea. It hardly matters. Everything hopes for a son. Her heart shatters when she hears another term instead.

"Daughter."

"I-I..."

It takes her a moment to realise that what she is hearing is laughter. "Do not think me disappointed Bellatrix. My dear, it is the women of your bloodline that are strong and powerful and strong willed. It is their ambition and drive I would see flow in the child of Lord Voldemort, my heir. It is my mother's blood that gives me the strength of Salazar Slytherin. No, I am not disappointed my dear. I am elated. Let our daughter present our vision. Let us have the pollution of our society wiped out and replenished from the wombs of strong women with strong pure children that will carry us forward."

She bounces on her feet, her hand now resting where the child kicks, and grins madly. Her eyes shine bright with enthusiasm and she agrees entirely. Why she is going to be the mother of the nation it seems. How utterly delightful.

"Do you know the tale of the oracle, Bellatrix?"

"No, My Lord." It stems her enthusiasm a little but her Lord leads her to the bed in his room, the one in which their union had been so prosperous, and lies upon it, pulling her with him until she is curled at his side and his hand may lay possessively across her stomach. "Are you to tell me of the oracle?"

"Yes. The child may attune itself to my magics as I do so. Do you know so few parents now understand the importance of allowing the father's magic to present near the mother? They send the mothers away to hide under thick robes and only be seen by women for months at a time. It strangles the child at its most vital point of growing. Pureblood children need both of their parents in the womb. These lessons will be taught at my new Hogwarts."

"You are indeed wise, My Lord."

"Always."

A thought creeps into her mind but she bites her tongue before voicing it. It is not her place to question him.

"You went to speak."

"It is nothing."

"I sense you were to speak of our child. You carry her. In this one instance Bellatrix you alone grow as close to an equal as Lord Voldemort would have. Speak."

Blinking, Bellatrix places her hand over his on her stomach and nods. "My mother...she spoke of similar things. She always claimed my sisters and I were stronger because our father nurtured us from before our first breathes. She felt that skin to skin contact and the voice of fathers were prudent in the growth of magical beings. But I do not presume to know more than my Lord and I would never ask him of-"

"Quiet, Bella. Your mother was a noble and wise woman. Women know the best of these things regardless. I did research but even Lord Voldemort cannot read in a few months what women have experienced over a millennia. Remove your dress and take refuse under the blanket. I shall remove my outer garments. Let our daughter take her fill of my powers."

The drive to disrobe is terrifying in its own way. Too fast and she appears a common harlot rather than her Lord's trusted carrier. Too slow and she appears disrespectful or fearful when the child is in so safer place than with her father regardless of the strange feelings and sensations that coil within Bellatrix.

"The Oracle was one of the myths of Greece that even the muggle vermin told mostly correctly. What they called Gods we would know as great magic users. Olympus was their school. Divination was a highly prised ability and those who could wield sight were sent to a smaller institution at Delphi where the Pythia was the name of the Head teacher. The Omphalos of Delphi was a monument within the grounds of the school that the people there, magical and non, believed to be the centre of the world."

Bellatrix watches, captivated, as her Lord speaks. Only the fact that it is him can keep her attention for such a span. If it were not coming from her Lord, and therefore evidently have a purpose, she would have dismissed such facts as trivial. Still, the longer he talks the longer she will be allowed the honour of remaining at his side.

"People travelled for days, weeks and months to visit the students at Delphi and hear their predictions. Muggles waged wars that killed higher numbers than the magical populations totalled over the words of teenagers learning to harness a gift. Our ancestors learned to use their leverage to create a world to their liking and the respect was unshaken for generations. And...for such a beautiful word. Delphi. Or as our daughter shall be known, Delphini. Delphini Slytherin."

"Delphini?" Bellatrix repeats, trying the name on her tongue and allowing a lazy smile to cross her lips.

"Delphini." The Dark Lord states more firmly. The hand across Bellatrix's stomach presses harder, almost becoming painful. She giggles. "She will see all. She will be the vision. She will influence generations and see over a new age. Our future. Our oracle of a new dawn."

Delphini grows larger in her womb and Bellatrix often finds herself standing at the windows and looking upon the sprawling lawns and giggling. The more the child hurts her the more Bellatrix laughs and talks to her stomach to encourage it. Stronger. She will lead the magical world to greatness and encourage the muggle vermin that have survived to her adulthood to ruin. Bellatrix sometimes wonders what she will look like. Of course, she only her memories of the child's father's true image but her own family has strong cheekbones, dark hair and strong dark eyes. Bella would...enjoy if they were passed on.

There is less fear now that she will lose the babe. Part of her wishes her sister could be by her side but Lucius is weak and Draco weaker still. They cannot find out until her Lord has decided the world is to know of their daughter. Narcissa is all about family, and telling them everything, yet if Bellatrix can find it within herself to respect anyone outside of her Lord then she would respect her sister for that. Still, it gets in the way and it isolates her further. She wonders if Draco kicked so hard. She wonders if Narcissa felt as ill at this point in time as Bellatrix does now. She craves for more time with her Lord and then feels horrendously guilty that she would desire such a thing when he has such important matters to attend to. She should be ashamed of her thoughts and feelings.

"Turbulent thoughts again, my Bella?"

"My Lord!" She is halfway to her knees before his next words register and straighten her immediately.

"Do not trouble yourself, Bellatrix. You would struggle to get up again and I do not intend to stress you."

He crosses the room as silently as he entered it and immediately presses his hand to her stomach and speaks to Delphini. Bellatrix cannot represses the aroused shudder at hearing the tongue of Salazar Slytherin. It makes him laugh.

"Lonely. You feel lonely. Understandable. Pregnancy is such a beautiful and social event. I cannot offer you more company but I can offer you something else."

"My Lord need not I-"

"I know that. I do not need to do anything for anyone but I ...desire to do this for you. Put a thick cloak on. I have secured the Goyle estate for the afternoon. We shall take a walk and get you and Delphini some air."

Fear and regret coil in Bellatrix's stomach as she stares at the floor. "I...My Lord I have no cloak to fit and my magic it..it rebels against me I-"

"Hush. It is expected it would grow unstable and your robes unsuited. I brought you a selection. Pick one and we shall leave."

The velvets are deep red, blue and purple and come in different sizes clearly meant to do her over the course of the pregnancy. The largest is also the lightest and shows preparation for the assumed spring birth. Bellatrix fingers the blue one and tries it on. It fits perfectly. Of course. "I am ready."

"Quite."

The air feels wonderful. She skips, as best she can, all over the lawn. Quickly she realises they are not there together to be together. Bellatrix requires air and her Lord is making sure she is safe in getting it. An ancient dusty tomb of a book that would bore her hovers before her Lord as he researches and Bellatrix is left to her own devices. The elves at the Goyle estate have done well. Everything is beautiful. For an hour or two she forgets the war Dumbledore is forcing upon them and enjoys her pregnancy.

Food has been provided and she enjoys it to the fullest. If she had taken anything from Azkaban that other prisoners might have in the same way it is the enjoyment of food. Gruel will keep a person alive but it is not living.

It begins to enter her mind that she may be truly different from the others when his voice cuts everything to ribbons and her stomach churns once again.

"Your nephew failed again. I do hope that is all from his father's side. Come now, back to the veranda to apparate."

It takes Bellatrix a moment to follow and when she does she notices the loose tiles on the bottom of the Goyle's pond fighting to get loose as her magic fights to lash out and protect her child. From her own father.

Bellatrix must be more careful.

The labour is long and hard and painful so Bellatrix mostly laughs in delight the whole time. Her Lord sits by the bed mostly uninterested other than to check her and Delphini's vitals and occasionally charm a cloth to wipe Bellatrix's brow. A map lies across his lap and Bellatrix knows better than to ask about it. Instead she looks forward to the days when she can return to missions and aid her Lord on the field. For a moment her thoughts turn to the fact that it will be elves that watch their child when they are absent and she feels something stir in her stomach again. Nerves. Guilt. She does not care for these feelings and welcomes the pain and distraction of the next contraction. When Dephini's birth is near her Lord informs Bellatrix of his plans for her.

"Your husband will be brought to see her when you are both settled. The safety of you both will be his top priority on pain of his life. His reward for his service and time in that prison will be the knowledge of Lord Voldemort's heir."

"He will be proud his wife carried her, my Lord."

"He will be most dead if that is not the case. It will not be quick."

Again she giggles. Wouldn't it be funny for him to be react badly and be tortured as she lay in bed with the babe in her arms? Her giggles turn to hisses and then groans as the worst pain she has experienced explodes across her lower abdomen, crawls through her back, anus, and forward.

"She is coming, Bellatrix. You have done so well my most loyal her. Bring her to me. Push."

There are more words but they are not in a language meant for Bellatrix to understand. A father welcomes a daughter under a dying sun and Bellatrix giggles softly as her bloodied daughter is placed at her breast.

No one will ever forget her now.

No one can ever doubt her loyalty.

Bellatrix, mother of Delphini. Delphini, the oracle of a new dawn.