It was the day of Holly Potter's tenth Birthday. As was usual, her Aunt Petunia woke up next to her husband and the sound of his snores and heavy breathing. She rolled out of bed, collected her clothes for the day and stepped into the bathroom to get ready for the day ahead. When she was sure she didn't have a hair out of place she made her way to her Darling Duddykin's room to wake him up.

Once he'd grumbled at her to go away, she made her way downstairs. Her husband's alarm would be going off soon and he would want his cooked breakfast on the table waiting. She opened the front door briefly to pick up the newspaper they had delivered every morning apart from Sundays.

As she passed the cupboard under the stairs, she gave it a firm rap and opened the vent on the door.

"Wake up!" She hissed.

"Coming Aunt Petunia." A voice mumbled from inside the cupboard.

Holly Potter was awoken, like she was every morning since she could remember, with a shriek from Aunt Petunia and a loud knocking.

Unlike every morning before, Holly felt a strange tightness in her chest. It wasn't like when Dudley stamped on the stairs and she inhaled a lungful of dust. That was almost choking and much more painful. This was more like... Maybe a tight hug. She wasn't sure what a hug felt like but she thought it might be something like how she was feeling.

Screwing up her face, Holly pondered the feeling. As she concentrated on it, it seemed to give a tug upwards.

The feeling reminded her that she had to get up if she wanted to eat this morning. She pulled out a pair of socks. They used to be Uncle Vernon's and they were much too big for her feet. She had to pull them half way up her shin so the toe didn't get away from her and trip her up.

Pushing the door to her cupboard open, she scuttled into the kitchen and took over from Aunt Petunia who gave her a sour look for taking so long. In minutes the kitchen was full of the smell of fried bacon, sausage and egg. The smell made Holly's stomach rumble and cramp but she didn't dare take a bite of any of it with Aunt Petunia's hawk-like eye watching her every move.

Four days ago Holly had tried to steal two rashers of bacon. This was the first time she had been allowed out of her cupboard for more than a bathroom break since. She was kicking her self for getting complacent because now it would be alot harder to feed herself. She thought it was probably a combination of her hunger and her imagination but she could have sworn her wrist was already more angular. She hooked a stringy auburn strand of hair behind her ear and huffed quietly to herself. She'd just have to be even more sneaky than before. She had to come up with a new plan.

Her uncle and cousin were summoned by the heady aroma of the food and stomped into the kitchen just as she was plating up. As her relatives sat at the kitchen table and practically fell on the food Holly had cooked for them, she retreated to the corner and waited for them to finish.

She kept her head down, letting her tangled hair fall over her bright green eyes and was quiet and still. Sometimes, if she concentrated enough it was almost like the Dursley's would forget she was in the room. It never lasted long enough though.

Keeping half an eye on her relatives, Holly concentrated once more on the tightness in her chest. Trying to feel it numbed the ache of her stomach somewhat, like how one pain distracted from another, so she put a great deal of focus on it.

Instead of tugging up, or forwards as the case may be as she was no longer horizontal, it seemed to pull her sideway towards the front door. It was a strange feeling. She wouldn't dare tell her Aunt or ask her what it could mean. Her Aunt and Uncle always punished her when anything strange happened.

Like when that teachers hair turned bright blue after she'd laughed at Hope for not knowing the answer to something. She did know the answer but she wasn't allowed to do better that Dudley at school and he was an idiot. Or when she'd been running away from Dudley and his gang when suddenly she'd been on the roof of the school, looking down at her cousin's fat face.

It could be that the feeling was 'strange' or 'freakish' and Holly didn't feel like getting put back in her cupboard so soon after being let out.

Soon the Dursley's were finished eating and Uncle Vernon left to drive to work. Holly cleared the table and was forced to throw the leftovers in the bin. It was hard work to keep the scowl off her face as she watched good food go to waste but she knew she just get a smack from Aunt Petunia for being ungrateful. What she should be grateful for, Holly didn't know.

Dudley was yammering away to his mother about all the things his friend Piers had that he didn't and why didn't he have it and when was he going to get it? He was going round there for a 'playdate' at ten. Petunia listened to him with half an ear but made all the appropriate 'of course Pumpkin. We'll go get one this afternoon when I pick you up' noises.

Holly watched them out of the corner of her eye as she washed and dried up the plates, before using her step stool to reach the cupboards to put them away, as Aunt Petunia flicked through her magazine. When she was done Aunt Petunia gave her a list of chores.

"Get that done and you can have some dinner tonight." She sneered down her nose at Holly.

All she could do was say "Yes Aunt Petunia." and get started with the long list of chores. She got the washing machine started on a colour wash, before going out into the back garden to get the weeding done. It wasn't too bad as she'd only done the front and back last week but there were still stubborn prickly leaves beginning to sprout. After she had thoroughly washed her hands, she pulled the colours out and carefully went through them before putting them in the dryer. She'd ruined some of Aunt Petunia's fancy expensive underwear that way and got a few harsh slaps round the face the first time she'd been told to use the dryer. By that time, Dudley had been picked up and Aunt Petunia was in the living room watching the TV.

Holly put a white wash on that consisted of Uncle Vernon's shirts and underwear and some tea towels. That gave her enough time to pull weeds from the front garden and begin lugging the heavy watering can back and forwards as she watered the front and back. Petunia made herself lunch and allowed Holly a glass of water that she had to drink right there in front of her. By that time the tumble dryer was finished and she had to get all that out and fold it up, ready to be taken upstairs. Uncle Vernon's shirts also finished but they couldn't go in the tumble dryer so she had to hang them up and thank her stars she wasn't trusted with the iron yet. Burns from that would hurt alot.

It was then she reached the final job on her list.

• Clean and Tidy the Attic.

No one went in the attic very often. Uncle Vernon struggled up there once a year to get the box with some Christmas decorations in it. Ones Dudley had made and a few that were Aunt Petunia's parents. All Holly knew was that it was much too high up for her to reach. Unless she fancied balancing on Dudley's wheelie chair at the top of the stairs. She was left with one unfortunate option.

"Aunt Petunia, Will you open the attic door for me and pull down the ladder, please?" She asked once her Aunt looked at her scornfully for hovering in the doorway, holding the box of cleaning supplies in one hand.

Asking for help was on Holly's all time top list of things she hated doing. It rarely got the desired result and when it did it was only if the person you asked got something out of it. Which was the case this time as Aunt Petunia got up with a huff and marched up the stairs. Holly followed at as a sedate pace as she could get away with.

She'd already opened the little square door in the ceiling when Holly reached the top of the stairs and the metal fold out ladder made clanging noises as it clicked into place.

"Well! Go on then, girl." Aunt Petunia pointed up into the darkness.

Reluctantly she put her foot on the first step. A jolt ran through her making her hesitate. The feeling that had lingered on the edges of her awareness all day grew in intensity. It was almost pulling her up.

"Go, you lazy girl. You haven't got all day!" Her aunt screeched shocking her back into movement.

Something in the attic was calling her. Cautiously she stuck her head into the dark hole and let her eyes adjust for a moment. There was nothing strange she could see. Just boxes and cobwebs and a thick layer of dust as far as the eye could see. She put her box down and pushed herself up on to her feet to get a better look.

"Don't you dare put your foot through the ceiling. You better be done by the time we're back, or else." Her Aunt called after her, followed by a clanking sound.

As Hope spun around she saw the ladder fold back up on itself and take up the space she had just come through. Then Aunt Petunia shut the door on her leaving her in almost complete darkness. And trapped. The door couldn't be opened from the inside.

The only light came from a nearly opaque sky light. Holly huffed.

"Brilliant." She whispered into the empty attic.

She decided to get the dusting done quickly and hopped to it. She kept mostly to walking on the rafters with the lightest feet she could manage. Occasionally there were thick wooden planks balanced between two of the beams for ease of movement and Holly assumed they were put there by workmen or the pervious owners of the house and not Uncle Vernon as she doubted the rafters would have taken his wait.

The box marked Xmas Dec's was right next to the trapdoor so Uncle Vernon could reach them without actually getting all the way into the attic. There was three more smaller boxes marked Dudley's and a peak inside revealed baby clothes, toys, tiny shoes and stack of certificates for participation and trying hard that day or finally understanding adding up.

There was another full of Aunt Petunia's stuff from when she was a teenager. It included some old phots but there were none of anyone who could have been Holly's mother. There was a nice one with just Aunt Petunia's parents in a garden somewhere. Her grandparents.

Her grandmother had blond hair and blue eyes like Petunia and Dudley but her face was kinder, her smile warmer. Her grandfather's hair was a darker shade of blonde, almost brown but he did have Holly's emerald eyes. She was a little disappointed neither had ginger hair like hers but maybe she got that from her father?

Holly had always thought she was the spitting image of her mother though. It was the way Aunt Petunia looked at her sometimes. Like she was looking at someone else. She'd get sad and angry at the same time and snap at Holly twice as often.

Her grandfather had an arm around her grandmother and a champagne glass in the other. Turning it over she saw a neat scrawl she had never seen before. It was feminine so she guessed it was either her mother's or her grandmother's. It said; June 1978- Rose and Joseph at Lily's Graduation party.

Her first thought was that the tradition of flower names went back further than she thought. Her second thought almost brought tears to her eyes. Lily. It had to be her mother, didn't it? Who else's graduation party would her grandparents be attending. Especially one where Petunia ended up with a photo from it.

Being careful not to fold it or bend it too much, Holly carefully put the photo into the pocket of Dudley's old oversized trousers.

Getting back to her feet she looked around again searching for whatever had been pulling up here all day. Closing her eyes she focused on the feeling once more. It pulled at her again more incessantly now she was paying close attention to it.

Over in the corner. It seemed to be particularly dark over there but as she careful navigated her way over, it seemed to brighten imperceptibly. There was a trunk. It looked old fashioned but at the same time new. As she got closer she could make out the outer surface better and saw it was made of some kind of reptile skin. But whatever it was it was big. Much bigger than the tiny grass snakes that came to talk to her sometimes. And it was a sort of iridescent blue that seemed to move into a darker purple colour as she shifted. All the fittings were brass and ornate without being too decorative.

And it hummed. Not so much that it made a sound but Holly could feel it. Almost without meaning to she was reaching for the clips to open it up. As soon as she touched it, there was a whoosh as wind wiped through her hair, but there was no where for the breeze to have come from. The clips moved by themselves and the lid to the trunk popped open.

Holding her breath, Holly opened the trunk.

Even though the trunk stood to be at least two foot deep, there seemed to be impossibly more space within. But before she could investigate the trunks depths, her attention was drawn to a thick envelope that sat on top. The paper was heavy and yellowish even though it hadn't seemed to have aged since it had been put in the truck, which Holly had to assume was ages ago.

But that wasn't what drew her attention. No, it was the inked name written across the envelope.

Holly.

With shaking hands, Holly Potter reached forwards and plucked the envelope out from the trunk. Something came off it and brushed at the fingers, making her tense but it left as soon as it came. The envelope was sealed with wax that was a little warm to the touch. Imprinted into the red wax circle was a Fleur-de-lis with smaller leaves circling it. They might have been ivy or maybe some other flower, Holly didn't know.

Carefully, she broke the seal and puled out the thick stack of parchment from the inside. Unfolding the pages she brought them closer to her face and in the dying of the light, she made out the first words.

To my dearest Daughter, The light of my life,

She chocked back a sob and read on.

Firstly, I would like to wish you a happy tenth birthday. I hope you get everything you wish for.

No one had ever wished Holly a happy Birthday before and it took her a minute to remember that, yes, it was her birthday.

Secondly, I have to say if you are reading this letter and I am not there beside you to explain this all to you myself, that things have gone as I worried and dreaded that they would. I can not say this is the worst outcome as you are still alive to read this. More than anything in the world I would wish you alive and healthy and happy.

This trunk has been carefully charmed to discreetly follow you where ever you may go and to stay hidden until this day. Your tenth birthday when hopefully you will be old enough to at least understand a little bit. Whoever you are living with should have sent you on your way to discovering this trunk but please know you are the only person who can open it.

If things have gone how I fear they have then I am dead. And James Potter is too.

Holly chocked back more sobs and wiped at her nose with the sleeve of her hand-me-down t-shirt that was several sizes too big and fell off one shoulder. She wasn't going to cry over this. She'd known for years that her parents were dead.

Still she frowned at the thought of a trunk following her and hiding from the Dursley's. What did her Mother mean that the trunk had been 'charmed'?

If he's not then he will be receiving a letter from me explaining everything right at this moment. Don't worry Darling, I've explained everything. If he is dead then the letter will self destruct so you don't have to worry about where it is either.

Please don't hate me baby. But James Potter isn't your father and your name isn't Holly Potter.

Holly blinked and sat up straighter. For a brief moment she wondered if this was an elaborate prank by the Dursley's. Sending her up here. On her birthday that they all didn't mention. But no. It wasn't their style. It would all be too clever for them. And trunks following people sounded an awful lot like 'freakishness' that they always went on about. Even Dudley wasn't allowed to watch anything on the TV that had any... Magic in it.

I suppose it all really started before you were born. Well, really, it started back at Hogwarts. James Potter and myself were both in Gryffindor as you've no doubt heard, but what you may not know was that James and I didn't get along very well at first. Well, to be honest I kind of hated him and his friends. They were always getting into trouble and losing house points. And they pulled awful pranks on everyone. Especially my friend Severus Snape, a Slytherin.

I knew him from before Hogwarts and he was the first person to tell me about magic. Even if he didn't do a very good job of it at first.

Magic. Magic. The word ran through her head again and she re-read the letter to check that she had it all right. But she had. Magic. Suddenly things seemed to click into place. All the strange things. All her freakishness. Disappearing and appearing. That shrinking sweater. Her hair growing back when Aunt Petunia had loped off bits. She healed quickly and talked to snakes. And her mother was magic too.

Was that why the Dursley's hated her? They hated magic.

Through Sev, I met another boy. Regulus Black, your godfathers brother. I don't know if anyone has talked about him at all but please don't take what they might have said to heart. Regulus was a kind boy in a difficult situation. But maybe I'm getting ahead of myself.

People have probably told you about the wizarding war. The Light side verses the Dark. Us verse Voldemort and his bigoted followers. The Death Eaters. The War started when we were all still in school. They hated the muggleborn and thought we shouldn't be allowed to go to Hogwarts with children from Wizarding families. Some thought we shouldn't be taught magic at all or allowed to buy wands.

Being muggleborn myself, I knew what side I was on but Regulus and Sev had a much harder time. It was dangerous in Slytherin. It was dangerous for everyone but I always got the feeling it was very tense in their common room. Voldemort was a Slytherin himself and so were many who followed him. Alot of them were from old Pureblood lines aswell.

Severus made a lot of wrong choices but I know now that he regrets them. We haven't spoken but I know he is on the right side of things now and that is what matters to me. I hope that you have met him, or at least are aware of him. That he is alive and well. He was a very dear friend.

Regulus on the other hand had less choice. The Black's are a very old and powerful Dark family. That is not to say they were all awful people, no matter what you have heard. But it's true that Regulus and Sirius's parents are horrible people. Their father an uninterested narcist and their mother a vile harridan of the highest order. I have never met them myself but have heard Regulus and Sirius speak of them often and it is one of the few things they ever agreed upon.

Their mother followed the Dark Lord religiously and after Sirius ran away, she pushed her beliefs heavily on her only remaining son Regulus. He was stuck between being a dutiful son and becoming a slave to a man he didn't agree with or leaving his family with no heirs and trying to fend for himself in such a dangerous time. He had no allies on our side except me. His brother would no longer speak to him but even so Regulus was too stubborn to ask for help.

He was forced to take the Dark Mark by his mother and began secretly trying to help our side where ever he could without being caught by either side. I didn't know this at the time and I had lost touch with my two Slytherin friends before we left school.

I married James Potter. Under the name Lily Evans because at the time I thought that was my name. It was after I found my father's journal, which is also inside this trunk, that I learnt the truth. I wasn't muggleborn you see. I was a half-blood. My father was a squib of the Maison Royale de Sanglierre line which is basically ancient and noble by English standards. After he didn't present with magic when he was ten, they got in contact with muggles they knew in England through business and sent him across the channel to be adopted.

Still being raised in the Wizarding world he knew the power of names and had carried out a naming ceremony on myself and your Aunt Petunia when we were born. Not even our birth certificates had out real names on them as is the ancient tradition. Only a baby's parents should know there full names until the time comes when the child can guard there own name.

My real name is Lilliana Annamarie Maryam Maison Royale de Sanglierre and when I fell pregnant with you I was so lucky it all worked out the way it did.

I think I loved James Potter at some point. He is funny, courageous and above all loves me dearly. I do hate myself for my betrayal but I do not regret it as it brought me you; everything I do I do for you sweetheart. A mother's love should come before all else.

We'd been married a year when we began fighting as we never had before. We were figuratively and literally at each others throats; some hexes were even thrown back and forth. I began to think that maybe a divorce would be the best option but with the war, we all had other things on our minds.

That was when I ran into Regulus again. He saved my life that day. We began meeting secretly. He told me what had happened to him and I helped him disseminate information in ways that couldn't lead back to him. We got closer. Closer than we had been before. Then I got Pregnant. I did a test to make sure of the paternity.

Regulus Arcturus Black is your father.

When I told him he was happy and upset. As far as anyone was concerned I was a muggleborn and him a Death Eater. If anyone were to find out they would come for us. Me, your father, even you. And I had no idea what James would so.

Your father was a very clever man though. He figured out a way to keep you safe.

My friend Marlene McKinnon, the only other person who knew about Regulus and I, covered for me and we spent the week in France, finding my family and making myself an identity using most of my real name, Lilliana Anne Sanglierre. In many ways it is true, truer than Lily Evans or Potter anyway. We married under my new name and made sure that you would be Regulus' legitimate heir when it all came out. Your father also knew a lot about questionable magic. After finding out you were to be a girl, he used a ritual to create a very strong, nearly undetectable glamour while still in vitro, so you would look exactly like me.

The plan was to tell James once the War was over. When you would be safe to be who you truly are. What we did is technically line theft. A very serious crime in the wizarding world, that would have had us in a lot of serious trouble and probably even Azkaban.

But then Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and a very influential person in out society, came to tell James and myself about the Prophesy made shortly before your conception.

It talks of a child born at the very end of July. One who would grow to defeat the Dark Lord. For neither can live while the other survives.

There were two children who the prophecy could allude to. Neville Longbottom, your God-brother and yourself. The pair of you had only been born days before and I had yet to have the opportunity to smuggle you to visit your father. Little Neville was born the day before you but I am sure that this Prophecy speaks of you and for that, I am infinitely sorry. But as you can guess, this meant me and your father would need to change the plan.

I told your father everything Dumbledore had told us as well as my own suspicions. We knew Voldemort had heard some of the prophecy, enough to begin trying to take James and myself down as well as the Longbottoms. We began trying to prepare for your future.

We began this trunk, filling it with everything you might need.

If you are with James, then I trust him to make the best decisions for you no matter if you are his blood or not. He may react emotionally at first but he will calm down and I have urged him to really think about what would be best for you in the letter I sent.

If you are with Sirius or Frank and Alice, you must decided if you trust them with this information but know that I do.

The light was quickly fading and Holly was forced to edge away from the trunk and nearer to skylight. It did little to help and she was forced to squint to make out the inked missive.

She almost couldn't believe what was written. A magic world with a Wizarding War. It was almost too much. And her mother had still not written what her name was, just that it wasn't Holly Potter. She was the daughter of Lilliana Anne Sanglierre and Regulus Arcturus Black. It was like her whole life was a lie.

And where were all these people? Fine, her Mother and James Potter were probably dead and probably not from a 'car accident' while driving drunk. But where were Frank and Alice, who she assumed were the Longbottom's considering that Neville was her God-brother. That made Alice her God-mother if Sirius was her God-father. Where were they? Why was she with her hateful Aunt?

If the war got a lot worse before it got better, because I refuse to believe it is still carrying on, and you have ended up somewhere else or with my horrible sister, then you have things to do, my darling.

James and I were preparing to go under the Fidelus charm (a very powerful charm that can hide a small residence, so only the secret keeper can tell people where it is) when your father came to me with terrible news. Voldemort had done a most evil ritual to gain a kind of immortality. He had stored a section of his soul in an object and hidden it, it tied him to this plane of existence and stopped him from moving on. Not like a ghost, it would be possible for him to regain a body.

We decided that it was likely that Voldemort would find a way to find us, no matter how well we hid, he would do anything within his power to find you. Your father gave me a book, one from his family library. Blood magic. All Blood magic has been illegal since 1946 after the War with Grindelward when they labelled a whole variety of magic as Dark and illegal.

He had a plan, a last ditch plan for if everything went wrong. There was a protection ritual that could be used to shield you from even the killing curse. It was very complicated and I will have to sacrifice my life for yours for it to activate. I do not dread my death, nor am I afraid, my darling. Anything. Anything for you. I love you more than there are stars in the sky.

Holly's breath caught and the tears she had been holding back finally trailed down her cheeks and she hastened to wipe them away in case they dripped on her treasured letter. Even as heart wrenching as it was to think of her mother giving up her life for hers, it made a warm feeling grow in her chest. This was how a mother was suppose to love their child. Even Aunt Petunia, for all her hate and bitterness, she would do anything for Dudley.

It took two months for me to do the arithmancy calculations and by that time...

The handwriting seemed to change subtly and the ink ran thicker for a few letters.

...Regulus was dead.

He had found one you see. The soul piece, a horcrux, and went after it to destroy it and hopefully find clues to how many he had made and where they might be. He never came back and I know if he were alive, he would have found a way to contact me. He was ever so clever. He would have found a way.

This left you as his secret heir and you will not appear on family records or tapestries until you lift the glamour. There used to be a lot of people in House Black but a most of them ended up dead or in prison, so I have no idea where you will come in terms of House Black's inheritance.

I had to carry out our plan alone. If things have gone as I fear, Holly Potter defeated Voldemort when he came for us and likely left you orphaned. But as I know, and now you do as well, he will not be truly dead. Just waiting, trying to gain power so he can come back. It is also likely at least some of his supporters are not behind bars. You probably have a giant target on your back and the Headmaster is probably up to his ears with plans for you. I do not trust Dumbledore to have your best interest at heart. Maybe the press have already made you into some kind of celebrity.

This is not a life I want for you and neither did your father.

Your father and I have left you books and instructions on a wide variety of things to help you. You must train your magic no matter what you choose. You are in danger and I am no longer there to protect you and there are few people I trust in this world to look after you.

Holly could hardly make out the rest as the last of the light was gone with the setting sun. She gave a look round the attic as best as she could in the darkness. It was visibly tidier than when she had come up there that afternoon and she doubted her Aunt or Uncle would climb all the way up to see how good a job she'd done.

She went back over to the trunk. Was it possible that one of the things she might need was a torch? She could hardly see inside at that point but she felt around and found rolls of parchment sealed with wax and a large selection of heavy books. It was then that her fingers brushed something wooden. Reaching for it she pulled out the stick.

It was then that she remembered people not wanting muggleborns to buy wands. Was that what this was? Running through her fingers, she could feel the smooth surface and the intricate designs on what she took to be the handle. Holding it in her hands she felt the familiar brush of what she now knew to be magic echo through her hand from the wand.

Red and blue sparks shot out the end, making her jump. It liked her. She could just tell. It was kind of like the wand was waving at her. Thinking that maybe she could do magic with it.

"Light." She said shaking it a little away from her face.

Nothing happened. Except it felt like maybe the wand was laughing at her now. Holly frowned. She didn't like it when people laughed at her.

"Light!" She hissed in frustration, imagining a bright enough light to read by.

A pale light began to glow at the very tip of the wand. It felt like it was humouring her. Like maybe she hadn't got the words right but it gave her what she needed anyway. She scowled at the light but it didn't dim so she pointed it at her letter so she could continue reading. It took her a minute to find her place.

Firstly, you must choose whether to be Holly Potter or to give up that identity and become your father's daughter. Holly Potter could disappear and everyone might worry what happened to her but you will be safe, if you are not already.

Holly didn't really have to decided. She wasn't safe here. And it seemed like Holly Potter might not be safe anywhere.

The instructions to remove the glamour spells are in one of the scrolls your father left you. But there are things you must do before you can do that. When the glamour is released you will appear on all the magical records in this country. No one should notice you appearance accept possibly Walburga, Regulus' mother. Regulus also wrote about three pages on how you should handle his mother if she is still alive. I think he wrote one about his father too but he died two weeks ago so don't have to worry about him.

Before you can do that you must begin to learn Occlumency. It is detailed further in the book on the subject but basically its a way to protect your mind against intruders who may view your memories. You must protect the knowledge left to you in this trunk as well as your identity.

It will be hard work but hopefully you take after your father, who was quite naturally skilled with the mind arts. Follow the excises so you can begin to protect your mind against a gentle intrusion that Dumbledore so favours. Only then can you risk removing the glamour. That should keep you safe until you can master the skill, and defend again more malicious attacks, which I suggest you do.

I have left you some French primers so you can learn the language which should come quicker as you improve in your Occlumency. In the trunk are my papers with my real name as well as a birth certificate with the name chosen by me and your real father. It says you were born in Bordeaux, France on the 1st of August. I have also included a fake death certificate of the highest quality for myself dated two months before your tenth birthday.

It is all for the cover I have devised for you. Regulus sent us out of the country when he found out I was pregnant. We got married and he returned to fight for his Lord. When he died I decided to hide you until you were old enough to go to Hogwarts, as your father would have wanted. Unfortunately, I died of dragon pox and you have decided to make your own way to England to find your fathers family and take your rightful place as a lady of the Ancient and Noble House of Black. You are in fact travelling across France as you read this letter.

Use the primers as best you can to learn the language as though you have lived among the people. When you are far enough with your occlumency you will be able to use your father's Knowledge Crystals. He took them from the Black Family Vault without permission from his mother and smuggled them to me, with instructions on how to use them. He told me they contained information on Politics, History of the Wizarding world and the Blacks in particular, etiquette, Music, French, Latin and the basics of magic. Everything a Pureblood of good quality should know. They maybe a little out of date so you must find out what has changed in the last ten years.

Once you are fluent in French and have gotten far enough with your mind magics, which you must do before June next year as the Hogwarts letters will be set out, then you can do the ritual to remove the glamour and find one of the Black Family Homes. Another of the scrolls have the instructions on where to find the house in London and how to access the wards so they don't think you're an intruder. Trust me, the Blacks are famous for being paranoid and I wouldn't want to find out what they would do to you if you don't follow the instructions exactly.

Holly moved the wand back over the trunk to get a better look inside. There was a thinner book sitting on top of one of the piles. It had a black leather cover with no title. Picking it up, she could tell the pages were thin as it flopped to one side and quickly put it back in case she damaged it. Looking back at the letter she continued reading.

It is my hope that his mother is long dead. If anyone deserves it, it is her, even if she is your grandmother. That would mean that the house is empty apart from maybe Kreature, the Black family House Elf that had a soft spot for Regulus and will surely look after you.

Once you are settled, you should go to Gringotts bank and see the Goblins. Regulus left you a vault and you should talk to the Goblins about emancipation. If they will not allow it, as a last resort, contact Severus. Do not tell him everything, straight away. Just your cover story and that you are Regulus' daughter. He is not an openly emotional man but I believe he would be a guardian to you. I hear that he will soon be teaching at Hogwarts and if he is still there that will probably help him make the decision in your favour. I won't lie, it is a risk. But you will be in a powerful position as a Lady of House Black. Use that to your favour when ever you can.

Try to make good friends.

I am trying to think of what else to write. What else you might need to know. I am also looking down into your sweet face and trying to imagine the ten year old reading this letter. I have done all I can to protect you, to my death and beyond.

Be careful. Be cunning. Be clever. Above all be brave and remember you are loved. So much.

Your Loving Mother. X

She blinked back more tears. It was all just so much. Everything she thought she knew about herself was wrong. She didn't even have a name anymore.

Putting the letter aside, she use the dim light from the wand to give the insides of the trunk a proper look. Moving aside some of the scrolls she found her Mother's birth and fake death certificate. And under it her own.

Alya Lilliana Black.

Born the first of August 1980 in Bordeaux, France. That was something at least. She was Alya. Not her full name but it was probably in the papers somewhere. Probably something to be left alone until she guard her mind.

She couldn't bring the trunk downstairs with her, it would never fit in her cupboard with her in there as well. She'd have to figure out a way to get back up here.

Downstairs she heard the front door opening and the Dursley's coming home. Quickly using the wand light, Alya checked the books for the word Occlumency. The floppy book she'd picked up before was handwritten when she opened it but she spotted the word and tucked it in the top of her trousers, hiding it under her over sized top. Pocketing her mothers letter and the wishing the wand would turn off, which it did.

Shoving it in her pocket as well, the attic door opened and the stairs made the familiar clanking sounds as they were pulled down.

"Well, are you done?" Her Aunt shrieked up the stairs.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." She called closing the trunk behind her and watching as it locked itself.

She would find a way back.