(A/N) This is my first attempt at Harry Potter fanfiction and, as my pen name implies, I'm more familiar with Twilight fanfiction.

In this story I will be taking some liberties with the characterization of Igor Karkaroff. The reason I feel comfortable taking these liberties in a serious story is that his character is never given much of a voice in the books or the movies. So, he's almost a blank canvas.

Summary: Karkaroff has been described as cruel, cold. But what if that isn't all of who he is? Here is the story of a young Lestrange that found that life can be warm and happy in the arctic north of Durmstrang.

Prologue

“Crucio!” Bellatrix screamed, pointing her wand at the sobbing infant on the floor. The other Death Eaters watched on in various stages of amusement.

As they were rather preoccupied with their 'sport', none of them took notice of the door to the hall opening and closing. Or to the angry Russian purposefully striding into the room.

“Expelliarmus! Levicorpus!” He rushed to the now shaking infant and rounded on Bella, “She's your daughter! How could you do such a thing?”

“It was simply too easy, as she is unable to fight back. If you'd like, I could give you lessons.” She said with a giggle.

“You disgust me. And you,” he snarled, turning to face the Dark Lord, “You allow this? Truly, I could see if she was a muggleborn, or even a half-blood- but she's not! Not only is her blood pure, but she's also from a line of extremely loyal followers.”

“How my servants parent is not any of my concern. And you would do well to remember your place,” Voldermort drawled.

“Why...you... Crucio!”

“Accio wand,” came a voice from the shadows, just before the Russian could do anything that would be highly regrettable.

Severus Snape stepped from the darkness and made his way over to where an undoubtedly bloody duel would have happened. “Karkaroff, I hardly think fighting would resolve the issue. Perhaps you should take the child and leave. Take her back to Russia, stay there for awhile. At least until things settle down between yourself and Bellatrix. Would that be agreeable My Lord? Bella?”

When both nodded their assent, Snape gestured for Karkaroff to be off with the child. Karkaroff smiled briefly at Snape before gathering the little girl in his arms and swiftly leaving the hall of unspeakable tortures.

Karkaroff fled in a swirl of black robes before anyone could change their mind. It seemed quite unreal to him that there would be no objection to his leaving with the only child of a proud and ancient line.

'Surely there should have been more fighting,' he thought, 'She's a Lestrange for God's sakes!' It was only then that he realized that he had no idea what the child's name was. All he knew was that she was the daughter of Bellatrix and, obviously, of pure blood.

“I suppose I'll have to name you myself, little one,” he said in soft, broken English to the baby in his arms. The only problem was, he had no idea about baby names let alone how to raise a child.

But as the child stirred in a slumber induced by the sleeping drought he had given her, none of that seemed to matter. He was what she had; she depended on him.

(A/N) This is of course only the prologue. I plan on posting the first true chapter in maybe an hour or two- just to give this sometime to catch on. Oh, and as a nice little side note, the child is going to be just about the same age as Viktor Krum. And yes, that will be important.

(A/N 2)Just a question I had been thinking about: Should the Lestrange girl call Igor “Uncle Igor” or some variation of “Father”(Dad, Daddy, Pa, etc.)?

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