A mother will do whatever is best for her children

Age one

Narcissa finds she has a niece in what's possibly the most curious manner ever - by meeting with a furious Euphemia Rowle, who carried a black haired baby.

She looked at the rail thin woman, wearing what could be considered rags, and waited, staring at the sight in front of her.

"Where's my payment?", the woman growled, and Narcissa merely blinked, unaware her husband still had gambling debts. She really needed to see how it was going to be settled.

"I'm afraid I cannot pay you, mrs. Rowle, unless I know what it is for.", Narcissa parroted what the Malfoy solicitor had told her to say, and was appropriately taken aback when Euphemia started laughing like a maniac, and started a rant about how the baby she had in her arms was Bellatrix's and Voldemort's heir .

Narcissa wasn't really buying this mad woman's rant until Euphemia pinched the baby a tad too strongly, and made it cry, like that made any sense. Jumping from her seat to approach Euphemia, Narcissa decided that perhaps this baby was Bellatrix's, if that was able to keep it safe from the mad woman. The baby barely looked one year old, and if Narcissa could correctly guess a birth date, she'd have to say this baby was born under her roof.

Narcissa, if she was true to herself, didn't remember Bellatrix being pregnant, but she also didn't remember a good part of the end of the war effort, all seamlessly blocked in her mind. So, if this is ( maybe ) Bellatrix's child, Narcissa had a duty to fulfill, even if unfortunate.

A plan had to be formed, quickly, twisting and turning corners in Narcissa's mind like spellfire, hand reaching for her wand.

It's too complicated, it probably will fail - but family is family, Narcisa sighs, wand raised just enough to have a clear line of sight on Euphemia.

" Imperio ,", Narcissa called, and Euphemia's eyes grew huge before they became glazed. "You'll give me the baby, and whatever papers it has to its name. Then, you'll live in the wilderness of Canada for the rest of your life. Do not question this. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am,", Euphemia replied, monotone. Narcissa nodded to herself, satisfied. So far, so good.

"Good. Pass me the baby, and tell me it's name.", she commanded, glad that the wards were thick enough to bypass whatever Ministry control there could still be on them.

Euphemia, with a distant nod, obeyed, and Narcissa stared at the baby, distantly registering its name - Delphini , like the Dolphin constellation. A Black name through and through. Bellatrix, if she truly was this baby's mother, had chosen well.

"The papers. Be quick, yes?"

Euphemia nodded and made a motion to leave, Narcissa keeping her eyes on the other woman the entire time, feeding the spell with careful timing, and slowly rocking the sleeping baby.

She always wanted a daughter.

Still, she had a plan to perform. Narcissa transfigured some flowers into a crib with a flick of her wand and let Delphini lay there, asleep as she had come, and produced some parchment and ink, a quill being fished soon after from a drawer. Narcissa made a mental note to have a talk with the house elves about that later, and started penning some fake, accusing note. Maybe some witch who lost her husband during the war and did not wish to raise her baby, and decided to put the child to be raised by the ones who had killed her husband in first place.

It was plausible. It wasn't like Lucius kept a tally of how many people he killed, anyway. Not specific ones, at least.

She scanned the lines, taking some water from the vase and flicking it on the still drying ink, to give it an tear-stained appearance, and hummed to herself as she made it look like it was made of a lesser quality parchment. It wasn't like a mother giving away her child would care about parchment quality, would she?