I do not own Harry Potter.

Love Child

A baby is God's opinion that life should go on. – Carl Sandburg

I am not your mother. I am not the woman who gave birth to you, you are not my child. This is the truth I cannot force myself to tell you when you were still young and so I waited for twelve years. It was a long wait; I was growing impatient, anxious. You see, I did not wish to keep you in the dark. It was painful to have you call me mother and to see you smile at me when I know that I am deceiving you.

Let me tell you about your real mother, the woman who loved you more than I ever could and someone I can only wish to be. She was beautiful, a redhead. She had freckles and you have her smile, you both are very alike. She came from a large family; she had six brothers and was the only girl. We went to school together but she was younger than me, we were friends. There had been countless adventures, stories I will tell you later, and she was brave, very brave. She was a strong woman. You will grow up to be just like her.

Your father was one of my best friends, had been one ever since we were your age. We stuck together in those adventures, we fought hard to live. He was an orphan, like you, and he lived with relatives that were awful to him but he was a fine boy, brave and strong just like your mother. You have his eyes, green, green eyes and he had them from his mother. He was a great man, clever and loyal. He was well-known and still is.

They both died in an accident, you were only a few months old. It was a Monday, they left early in the morning, they were preparing for your first birthday and they left you with me. There was something wrong with the bus they were riding, it exploded and it had burst into flames. It was sudden and they weren't able to do something about it. And so I took care of you, I raised you up alone. I had no one left, I had no parents and my other best friend was dead long ago. It was up to me to tell you everything.

There is another secret that I have to tell you, listen carefully, child. It is one of the most important things you will ever know in your life; keep it in your heart well. Your mother, your father, you and I, we aren't like the people in our neighborhood, you're not the same as your friends, your classmates or your teachers. We are different, we are special. You and I can both do things only a few can do. We can do magic for we are witches, we are wizards.

No, child. Please don't give me that look or that snort. Think of the time when the water in the swimming pool turned into something like a geyser and you told me that you didn't know what happened. Think of the time when Crookshank's cat friend lost all its fur while you were playing with it. Wasn't there something that was in you that you couldn't understand that made all of that happen? What did it feel like, a spark, a burst of colored lights or a swelling bubble inside you? You can't say but yes, you did feel something. Ever since those incidents, I have known. I waited for you to tell me but you did not speak to me about it. I waited for two more years. Even then I knew. Oh, child – please don't cry. It is not frightening thing, you do not need to be afraid.

I can help you, I can guide you. There is a place where they teach you all about it, Hogwarts we call it. It was our school, your father's, mother's, and mine. That was where we met, that was where we became friends, and that was where it all began. I shall tell you all of the stories later but these are what you should know. Are you angry, child? Do please forgive me, you were too young before. But now you can understand, please do not hate me. I love you like my own.

It is a wise child that knows his own father. – Homer