A name for a singularity
The name Lestrange, a pure and strong surname, had once been synonymous with power and fear, a banner waving over the darkest foundations of the wizarding world. For generations, this ancient pure-blood family had consolidated its position among the most prominent and feared, not only because of its impeccable wealth and lineage, but also because of its absolute devotion to the dark arts. The Lestrange not only believed in the magicians' supremacy over the muggles and the muggle-born: they lived and died for it. From their earliest roots to their involvement in the first magical war, the lestrange had been a family united in a single purpose: to preserve the purity of their blood and defend the legacy of magicians worthy of magic.
At the head of this legacy was Corvus Lestrange VI, a man whose name was spoken with awe among even the boldest. Patriarch of the family during one of the most turbulent times in magical history, Corvus had guided the Lestranges with a firm hand, using both his intellect and his magical skill to keep his family on top. He was a brilliant strategist, able to manipulate allies and enemies alike, and a formidable duelist, whose skill with the wand was as lethal as it was legendary. He was also a strong supporter and collaborator of what is considered the greatest Dark Wizard in history, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
However, even the most powerful wizards are not immune to the passage of time. A degenerative disease began to weaken his body when he was still in his prime, forcing him to retire from direct combat a decade before the fall of Lord Voldemort. This retirement was not voluntary, but a bitter necessity that condemned him to watch from the shadows as his sons, Rodolphus and Rabastan, along with his daughter-in-law, Bellatrix, took over the reins of the bloodline in his place. Though Corvus still ruled Lestrange Manor with the same authority as of old, the lack of control over his family's fate was a wound that never healed. Also the fact that the magic society went difficult changes also made his political participacion barely useful to his master, yet again Corvus found himself retired from everything.
Without Corvus out of the way, the Lestranges became Voldemort's most ruthless enforcer during the First Magical War. Bellatrix, especially, was noted for her fanaticism and utter devotion to the Dark Lord, to the point of overshadowing even her own brothers in arms. Rodolphus and Rabastan, the heirs to the Lestrange legacy, were not far behind: they were figures of fear and respect, whose actions reinforced their lineage's reputation as an unstoppable force in defence of blood purity. But, like all golden ages, the Lestrange era came to an end with the fall of Voldemort. The boy-who-survived had doomed all the purebloods on the dark side of magical society, whether economically or ideologically, as was the case with the Lestranges.
After the Dark Lord's defeat, the Lestranges became a symbol of the horrors of war. Rodolphus, Rabastan and Bellatrix were captured after being ambushed by aurors, specifically by one Bones, who had seen first-hand the Lestrange torture of multiple families, including some of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, such as the Longbottoms, scarring for life the couple who once ruled House Longbottom, with now only the baby heir to the family as the last vestige of sanity in the Order of the Phoenix, this child now falling into the hands of his grandmother, the woman who, for the second time, took command of the family with an iron fist.
In any case, the three Lestranges were quickly sent to Azkaban along with several Death Eaters for their crimes against humanity against Muggles, half-bloods, squibs and purebloods, leaving behind a trail of crimes that ensured their place in history as monsters. Corvus VI, on the other hand, weakened by his illness and the ravages of time, was left as the last member of his family at large due to his testifying against some of his old comrades to gain full freedom through a deal he had made with the ministry. Now confined to the once vibrant and now desolate Lestrange Manor, the elderly wizard spent his days in self-imposed exile, cut off from the outside world that had begun to forget his name.
It was against this backdrop, in the midst of the Lestrange decadence, that an unusually cold and stormy night disrupted Corvus' routine. The wind howled through the walls of the manor, filling the corridors with an echo that seemed to mock the family's lost grandeur. Corvus was sitting in his study, surrounded by books and artefacts that now seemed mere reminders of a better time, when a sharp knock on the front door interrupted his thoughts.
With a grunt of exasperation, the old wizard rose from his chair, leaning on his cane to walk. His body, frail but still full of indomitable dignity, advanced through the dark corridors to the entrance. When he opened the door, what he found was not a visitor or an enemy, but a bundle wrapped in tattered blankets.
Inside the blankets was a baby with dark, piercing eyes, whose gaze seemed to contain an unsettling intelligence for one so small. On top of the parcel rested a letter, the handwriting of which she recognised instantly: it belonged to her daughter-in-law, Bellatrix Lestrange. With trembling fingers, Corvus took the letter and began to read:
«Father, this child is the final legacy of our blood. Voldemort has fallen, and with him, us. I do not ask your forgiveness, but I ask your duty. Watch over him».
Corvus' face hardened as he read those words, and his gaze fell on the child. There was contempt in his eyes, not for the baby, but for the situation he represented.
—One more orphan to drag the Lestrange name through the mud—He muttered bitterly, closing the door behind him. His voice echoed through the dark corridors as he made his way to a shadowy room— I damn you, Bellatrix.
Despite his displeasure, the old wizard settled the child in a makeshift cot made of blankets and towels.
—Lupin! Here, now!
Called the ever-annoying voice of Corvus VI. And it was at that moment that a small pop was heard, as if a spark had been the only sound to be heard apart from the strong wind howling in the distance. Soon, from the darkness of the mansion, a house elf appeared, a race characterised by being bonded to a person or a family, and served for however many years of life that being had. It was for this reason that having even a single house elf was the rule in any family that wished to consider itself "Pureblood". After all, how dare you call yourself a Pureblood if you don't even have ten house elves? Are you a filthy half-breed? No, Corvus VI Lestrange was, as his name and fame indicated, a proud member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, a group composed of the most powerful people in England, considered "The One Beacon of Light" of the magical world.
—Yes, my lord?
Lupin was an elf who wore shabby clothes, like all house elves, but unlike most, he had two identical black stockings in good condition. This had been a gift from the old man, who, after his children had deserted him and his wife had passed away, had decided to reward his only remaining close friend: his house elf, whom he had known since birth, and was the closest thing he could call a pet.
—Prepare one of the old cots and put it in my bedchamber. Also bring some blankets, both for you and the baby. Oh, and some food for me and some warm milk. Since we'll be taking care of him from now on.
The elf was confused, and when he looked into a corner of the room, he saw a bundle covered with an old and somewhat dirty cloth. That's when he connected the dots and raised his voice slightly.
—Is he the Lestrange heir, the son of Lady Bellatrix and Master Rodolphus!?
Quickly, Corvus swung his cane at the elf, causing him to let out a sound of pain, and "shouted" (more like whispered) at the elf in a tone both more authoritative and more grumpy than usual.
—Can't you see that the baby is calm, you big idiot!
Lupin was about to say something about the light, but decided to keep quiet and teleported away for a moment, only to reappear with a candelabra in his hand.
—This, sir. I had not seen it, young master, because of the dim light.
The old man then noticed that the entire mansion was in darkness except for his office where he had light to read by, so the latter decided to sigh and nod.
—That is correct. But don't let it happen again, Lupin. Now, go see the boy if you want to and then go do what I told you to do, will you?
The elf then struck a military pose and walked over to see his new master, the domestic creature's excitement was clear, after all, the latter thought that Bellatrix would die before giving birth to a Lestrange child due to that crazy bitch personality of hers, so he imagined that the other Lestrange master, i.e. Rabastan, would be the one to bring an heir to the family, though he also doubted it, as Rabastan's preference for older women over younger women was clear, making the creation of an heir a very complex situation, Lupin knew that his Master Corvus was also aware of this, so Lupin imagined that this must have come as a surprise to the old patriarch.
—Does he have a name, Master Corvus?—Lupin asks, to which Corvus replies with some weariness on his men and his head—. No, he doesn't have one. Or at least the letter did not mention a name.
That's when Lupin asks now with more excitement than ever, almost on the verge of leaping into the air.
—May I give you a name, Master Corvus—This question was key, for such a gesture would not only usher in a new position for Lupin in the hierarchy of house elves, gaining him the position of chief of them all, but he would also have the respect of the Master should he give a good name as a suggestion. Now, the said Master, i.e. Corvus VI, made up his mind and nodded as he rested his body on a wooden chair—. Do what you want, but it had better be a good name. Or you'll sleep with the fishes tonight, got it, Lupin?
The elf nodded and thought for a moment as he placed his knuckles under his chin, so that for a few seconds only the sound of the baby breathing, the fire in the chandelier and the wind blowing were the only things that remained constant in Lestrange Manor, or so it was until Lupin had finally come up with an idea.
—Eureka!—Lupin declared, extending his index finger upwards and with a little jump, this caused Corvus to raise an eyebrow and say sarcastically—. Eureka Lestrange, that's your idea? News flash, genius. The baby is a boy, not a girl.
The elf shook his head several times and it was Corvus who started the conversation this time, slightly feeling an index of curiosity and intrigue growing inside him.
—So what's your big idea, Lupin?
The elf then disappeared and reappeared with a book that Corvus recognised quite well, after all...
—The Legend of Camelot, you read it to me when I was a boy, but what has that got to do with my apparent grandson?
The elf then had no hesitation in explaining his idea and his reasoning behind it with a proud air that would make the Malfoy want to tear his ears off and then his eyes out.
—I wanted a name that said, glory, and I thought of Arthur, but it did not suit me due to the fact that he is betrayed by his own son, Mordred, so it was an option I discarded. And I imagine you want the young master to become the key to the Lestrange future, so what better key than the one that helped King Arthur become King justly.
For a few seconds, Corvus thought about what his house elf had said and hesitantly blurted out, knowing that his answer could be right or completely wrong.
—Merlin?
The elf snapped his fingers as if Corvus had hit the nail on the head and smiled from side to side.
—Correct, Master Corvus! You are as clever as ever.
Corvus then nodded and commented as follows:
—It's... an appropriate name, I'll let you have this little victory, Lupin. Now, go do your chores.
Without a second thought, Lupin nodded with a side-to-side smile and disappeared from the scene leaving the old man who, using his wooden cane, supported himself to stand up, walking a short distance to the newly named man's makeshift cot.
—Merlin Corvus VII Lestrange. Hah, one could even make a good acronym out of your name as the Lord used to do before back in our times, you would in any case be.... Linvange, how does that sound?
The baby who looked for the first time at the head of the Lestrange family looked calm, perhaps too calm, yet he did not show much expression, this made the head give a small laugh as he remembered that as a child he also acted like that according to the accounts of his own mother, may she rest in peace.
—I am not sure if you are my blood, for in a few days we shall see, but even if you are not, I have a duty and a reputation to uphold, so from now on you will bear this name, whether you want to or not. Love it, hate it, be indifferent, but this is my decision.
Though he wouldn't admit it, something about the baby sparked something in him, an echo of the days when the Lestranges were feared and respected. There was something in that calm gaze that defied the fragility of his situation.
The magical world, which had consigned the Lestranges to oblivion, did not suspect that in this family's desolate manor, the weight of destiny rested on the shoulders of an orphaned child. As Corvus VI looked at the little boy with a mixture of hardness and hope, a single thought crossed his mind: maybe, just maybe, the Lestranges could still claim their place in history.
—Hn. The fall of a family.
Corvus thought, then shook his head, for this is not the end of his story at all, but the beginning of his rebirth. And this child, so small and insignificant in anyone's eyes, could be the catalyst of that rebirth.
With that idea ingrained in his mind, the last Lestrange at large began to chart the future of his lineage, as Lupin carried the child to a cot, it was Corvus who prepared to write a list with which, hopefully, he would create a plan with which he could produce an heir that would once again instil fear and respect in those who had forgotten the name Lestrange.