Forty Two

When you open the front door in the morning, you expect to find the milk. That however, is not always the case.

Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin, who preferred to be known as Tonks, stumbled down the stairs of the house she shared with her husband. On observing that there was no milk in the fridge for her cereal, she made her way to the front door, and pilled it open to see if the milk man had arrived yet.

No, she noted, resigned to the fact that she would have to eat dry cereal, but there was something on the doorstep, a basket of blankets. She was momentarily baffled, (not being a morning person, she was not exactly on the ball so early) as she couldn't think of anyone who would send her blankets. She was even more shocked when something inside the blankets moved.

As she was getting a bit chilly, dressed only in her dressing-gown, she picked the basket up, and made her way back inside, slamming the door behind her.

Carrying the basket in one hand, and her dry cereal in the other, she climbed the stairs back to the bedroom. Her husband, Remus Lupin, greeted her sleepily from the bed. He yawned as she slid under the covers, placing her cereal on the bedside table, and turning her attention to the carpet.

Remus said later, that her shriek, when she realised that the basket contained a baby could be heard ten miles away.

"Why are you holding a baby dear?" he asked, "and where did you find it?" It was after all, an odd situation. One did not expect to find a baby so early on a Sunday morning.

"It was in a basket on the doorstep," she replied, picking the baby up. As she did so, an envelope fell out of the blankets. He picked it up, and read the address on the front.

"It's addressed to us. Shall I read it?" he wondered.

"Oh just get on with it," she replied, cradling the baby in her arms.

Dear Remus and Nymphadora,

By the time you read this letter, I will probably be dead. I know that once you know who it is that is writing to you, you will probably put this down in disgust, so please don't look to the end yet, and just read it.

Alright, I realise that I need to say who I am to tell my story, so Nymph, it is me, your cousin Bella. I can guess that now you are frowning, your eyebrows will have merged with your hair line, and if looks could kill, this parchment would be dead, very dead. Please carry on reading. When you get to the end, once you have heard my story, you can burn the letter if you want, but please read it first.

I realise now, that I have committed terrible acts, atrocities, but with the birth of my daughter, this will change. I can't change the past, but if I could, I would, and not for my own gain, but for everyone I have wronged.

I cannot follow the Dark Lord anymore, and now I see that I never should have to start with. He is wrong about everything, his creed on purebloods is ridiculous, and not just because he is a half-blood himself, but because it is wrong. Everyone should be equal. I see that now.

This baby, my beautiful daughter, is not my husbands. He doesn't even know she exists. I have not seen him in several years. He is one of the Dark Lords favourites, and I am no longer.

As you may have guessed, after the fiasco in the Ministry two years ago, I am far down on his list of favourite people. I have been punished ever since, and I deserve it. Not for the failure, I must assure you, I am glad we failed, and I mourn the loss of my cousin. I see now that he was right all along. No in my mind I am being punished for all my sins, everything I have done at his bidding over the years, ever since I was seventeen.

The Dark Lord is still a man, even with his diminished soul, and he is more terrible, more powerful than you could ever guess. I have been held in his stronghold these past two years, and tortured in more terrible ways than you could ever imagine.

Six months ago, I managed to escape, but it was too late for me, the damage was done and I was dying. I held on only for my unborn child, that I could give her a life, better than mine ever was, happy and full of love.

I have been on the run these past six months, but now he knows where I am, and he is coming. After the birth of my daughter, I am too weak to escape.

He wants me, and he wants my daughter. I have resigned myself to this, but not her. She is too beautiful, too perfect for this fate. I can take it, but only in the knowledge that she is safe.

You Nymph are the only person I could think of. You are my only surviving family member that would not turn her over to him to protect your own skin.

I ask only, that you take Claire, and raise her as your own, as a family full of love. Allow everyone to think she is yours, to protect her, for her sake. I ask this, and I ask that you could forgive me. I repent all the things I have done, and I wish I could start over, start again, and choose more wisely, but alas, that will never be.

The other letter is for Claire. Please do not open it, but give it to her, when the time is right.

I am forever in your debt,

B.L.

Remus looked up from the letter, and looked at his wife. She was staring at the baby in her arms, stroking the top of the little girls head. He put the letter down on the duvet, and reached over.

"Can I hold her?"