Chapter 1
Maria Astraea Scamander leaned against the soft cushioned chair as her hands grazed the worn out photo album, a fond smile on her face. Wrinkled and worn from age, her hand still looked delicate, wearing a silver ring with a single red ruby. Her light hair combed in a tight bun that resembled that of her favourite professor. A pair of glasses on the bridge of her nose.
If you asked her if she had seen herself as where she was now before, she would tell you no. Never. She would tell you all the dreams that she had growing up as the eldest daughter in a strict, traditional, pureblood family. How she wished upon every star that she could spot on wintery nights that she would live a life away from the spotlight or how she tried so hard to spot will-o-wisps deep within the forest near the Tofana Manor.
She would tell you of the expectations that her parents and grandparents had for her. Of how she was destined to inherit the family business. Of how they planned to marry her off to some pureblood boy of another most ancient and noble lineage. Of how she would stare at the huge family tapestry that was showcased in the dining room of her childhood home, detailing the success of every single Tofana before her.
But she would never tell you that she knew one day, that she'll become Mrs. Maria Scamander. Because it was one of the many surprises in her life. To have a family that her parents did not orchestrate. It was funny how fate put together the oddest couple that it could find. A reckless auror and an anxious magizoologist.
She loved Thomas very much and she loved her two children even more. Mirabella and Rolf were her pride and joy. And it wouldn't be that way if some things in life never happened.
The study of the Scamander household was full of memories. Laughter, tears, promises. Madame Scamander spent her time reading old letters from decades ago and novels in the spacious room, sometimes in the company of her husband, Mr. Scamander.
Class of '68
Her eyes watered slightly at the sight of her former classmates, most of them now dead, while some were still alive, a good number in prison as well. The photo album looked worn after years of memories and tears. The leather cracking and the pages looking withered. Maria wouldn't have it any other way.
Her eyes wandered to the blonde hair of Octavia Ollivander who to the surprise of many, ended up marrying Rufus McGonagall. Octavia had always looked aloof and acted pompous but it was undeniable that she made a good match with Rufus who was down-to-earth and kindhearted. They were victims of the first rise of the Dark Lord. Even thinking of the man made the witch queasy.
With a sigh, she squinted her eyes to look at the bright smile of Elle Windham, her dearest friend. Even after years, they stuck together. Madame Scamander wondered what the woman was doing now, perhaps still off on her cruise in search for true love in her all-pink attire. Madame Scamander tutted at the intruding thought of her best friend's niece who took after her brightly colored fashion sense.
Lysander Scamander, of course, chose the moment to enter the study. With a thoughtful smile, he peered over his grandmother's shoulder, "What are you looking at, Gran?"
"Sander." Madame Scamander greeted, softly. "Come look, your mother found my old photo album. Isn't it nice?"
Maria Scamander was very fond of her daughter-in-law and was even fonder of her only grandson, Lysander. She treated her children as prized possessions, years working as an auror made her crave the love of a home more than most.
Lysander nodded, sitting down beside her. His yellow jumper contrasting against the green sofa. In a few weeks, he'll be entering Hogwarts again for his fourth year. The youngest Scamander wanted to spend the rest of his time with his grandparents.
"These are my classmates: Flavio Lastra and Diana Archibald, they ended up marrying. I believe that their daughter became a writer. And here's Rudolphus Lestrange, he was such a handsome fellow, back then. If only he had not followed that man's dark path. He was a Slytherin, you know. Just like your Aunt Mirabella was before we left for America. I admit, back then I was highly influenced by my peers, but so was he. And perhaps, the rest of his house." Madame Scamander sighed, sadly. Remembering the gruesome fate of the Longbottoms who were only a few years younger than them.
"You were a Gryffindor, Gran, right?" Lysander enthusiastically asked, in hopes of cheering his grandmother up.
"Oh yes," Maria nodded, "I was quite a beauty back then. I still am, as your grandfather likes to remind me. My hair rivalled Domitia Malfoy's, here, here she is. She was the Slytherin's primrose. While I was the Gryffindor's sunflower," Madame Scamander chuckled.
Lysander furrowed his eyebrows, searching for his grandmother in the picture. "Where are you, Gran?"
With a shaky hand, the witch pointed at the girl in between two red heads, Molly and Arthur Weasley. Lysander gasped at the sight of his grandmother in her teenage years. Long honey blonde hair sat around young Maria's shoulder, her eyes twinkling with mischief. And her smile was the same teasing half smile that her children seemed to possess. The girl in the old photograph was glancing at her friends with a satisfied smirk before winking at the camera.
"Same grey eyed beauty after all these years, am I?"
"No wonder Grandfather fell in love with you." Lysander nodded, "You look just like Aunt Bella!"
"Well." Madame Scamander laughed, "I believe that she looks like me, as I came first,"
Lysander chuckled as he watched the bickering figures of Tristan Bulstrode and Caspian Proudmore, the Slytherin and Ravenclaw quidditch captains, both holding brooms in their clenched fists. It brought out so many memories for Maria. Of running through the winding hallways of Hogwarts Castle, of mornings spent in one of the greenhouses, and of weekends just sitting by the Great Lake. It truly was the sign of the times. She wasn't even that old yet but it felt as though she was too ancient, too knowing now. Magicfolk lived to over a hundred years old and Maria was just over sixty-five. In fact, she couldn't exactly remember her age now.
She was becoming forgetful these days. Maria sighed, closing her eyes. She didn't want to lose her memories, she was never meant to grow old and forgetful anyway.
"Wait, Gran, is that- It is! You were classmates with Bellatrix Lestrange? Just the other day I was reading about her." Lysander said with wide eyes.
Maria smiled, taking a moment before answering.
"Classmates. Ah yes, Bellatrix Black. For such a brilliant woman, she made all the wrong decisions."
"She was brilliant?"
"One of the brightest stars in the sky, la stella più carina." Madame Scamander smiled fondly, "She was a fiery spirit, for a Slytherin. Always for adventures,"
"I never imagined her as one for adventures,"
"She wasn't always a deatheater, Piccolino." Madame Scamander sighed, a tired look on her face. "She was Bellatrix Black. Arrogant with that smirk of hers. Yes, she was famous for three other things aside from her family: her fancy, wild hair, her sharp mind, and her nasty hexes. I've been on the bad end of her wand too many times before."
Madame Scamander laughed softly to herself, remembering long dark hair in curls and grey eyes that spoke of fierceness. Bellatrix Black was a beauty just like any other of her family. She was fiery and fierce. She had a temper that scared many. Perhaps, if she has never met Voldemort neither Dumbledore nor Harry Potter before, Maria would say that Bellatrix was the most powerful of all. She was all raw magic and chaos.
"You knew her very well." Lysander whispered.
Knew was perhaps an understatement when it came to Madame Scamander. She was too familiar of the danger that was her.
Maria Astraea Scamander knew Bellatrix Black very well, before she became Madame Lestrange.
"I named your aunt after her." Maria frowned. "I never regretted it. . . She was. . . Bellatrix Black was my saviour, Lysander, she there even before your grandfather came to my life."
"Will you tell me more about her?" Lysander never looked as hopeful as he stared at his grandmother.
Maria smiled, closing the photo album gently. "Perhaps over a cup of tea, if you will."
The young wizard nodded immediately, standing up, "Right, earl's grey with two drops of honey."
"I will meet you at the yellow tea room." Maria said, voice still as firm as back when she was a young auror.
"Be right there!" Her grandson called back.
Bellatrix Lestrange. . . No, Bellatrix Black.
Maria refused to remember her as a Lestrange. She was Bellatrix Black. Maria Tofana's first love. Just before she became Madame Scamander and Bellatrix became Madame Lestrange.
Back when they were just Bella and Maria. Two souls lost in time.
Maria ran her fingers against the cover of the album, just at the farthest right corner.
Love, Bella. It said.