“To my dearest Ginny,
I am sorry I left with so little notice. I don’t think there is a way I could further express how much it pained me to leave, but it’s for your own safety. We cannot tell anyone we were ever together, because then they will suspect you. And, right now, anyone they suspect is considered guilty. Clearly the old phrase “innocent until proven guilty” has worn out. But, my darling, please don’t be upset. Please, don’t worry about me. Please, don’t be mad at me. And please, don’t come looking for me. This owl will not return to me, and any other owl will fail in trying to track me down. For your own safety – since that is what I care most about – move on, and help fix up the wizarding world now that the Dark Lord is gone. Be happy, and do not worry.
I would also like to tell you how these past four years have impacted on me. You have made me who I am, Ginny, and for that, I thank you. We hid our love, but it is there, stronger than anything I’ve ever felt. You will always be in my heart, and I will always be thinking about you. Thank you for being who you are, and never change yourself.
Enclosed I have left the money I kept with me during times of the war – my ‘just in case’. I hope that it will help you, since I know times will get more difficult. Please, keep it, and please, spend it, because I have little use for it, and the death of my father has left me with everything he has. I have left what he left me in the bank. I wish I could give it all to you, although it does looks suspicious to take out from it, and since it is his account, and he is dead, that would seem a little strange – also considering I’m missing and presumed dead as well.
I also would like to let you know how my mother died. My mother cared for me – she loved me, and was the only person I had ever felt love from before you. She did everything in her power to try to get the Dark Lord to not kill me for not doing my assigned task and that resulted in her death. She died trying to save me, Ginny, and I can’t let that happen to you. I know you want to help me, and I hereby forbid you. If it is ever safe again, I will contact you.
Please, never forget me, as I will never forget you.
I love you.”
No name is signed.
There is another, smaller envelope inside of it titled “Just in Case”. It is empty.
What is funny is how this letter matches the articles. I know, suddenly, who the letter is from. It must be from that Draco Malfoy. Was he my father? On one hand, I’m furious at him. How could he leave a ninteen-year-old pregnant woman, whom he loves, on her own like that? Although, he didn’t know she was pregnant, did he? He did give her some money, which is generous, I suppose (I can’t help but wonder how much money he gave her). Clearly the Malfoy family is very, very rich, if he can just give her a whole lot of money (Well, I’m assuming it’s a whole lot of money. It wouldn’t be very helpful if he just left her with two Sickles, now would it?). Or – was. But my spirits lift slightly, because my father isn’t dead. And if he is dead, he didn’t die when all the articles said he did. I put the letter back in, close the box, smiling slightly, and go to put it under the bed when I spot a loose clipping from a newspaper on the floor. It must’ve fallen out of the box. It is a picture. A picture of a blonde-haired boy in his late-teens, with eyes that - I think with a small, affectionate smile – look just like mine. The picture wasn’t taken when he was looking, it seemed, and although the boy is young and is good-looking, his pale, pointed face shows signs of worry, and there are bags under his eyes. Signs of exhaustion are on his face, and I can’t help but look at him and feel a pang of pity. The moving wizard picture is of him looking around in worry. The picture looked crumbled, and the magic in the picture is fading slightly, as if it was held and admired many times. There are even a few tear stains, which, I assume from who the box belongs to, are my mother’s.
I put the picture into the box, and tuck it away under the bed. I feel as if I can breathe again.
I know my father’s name.
His name was Draco Malfoy.
His father – my grandfather - was killed by Aurors. His mother was killed because she tried to save him. My grandmother gave her life to save her son, who is my father. He has inherited a lot of money. He loves my mother, and it pained him to leave her.
The man who I had always imagined would come back, a knight in shining armour, a hero, I notice now won’t come back at all. His letter clearly states that. I remember that when Mummy tells me her story, I always make a comment that he is a coward. And I can see Mummy doesn’t like it when I say that, since she feels he is braver than she by leaving. She told me once that if she was truly brave, she would go find her. Yet she fears for her and his life and doesn’t. So I told her, “But you’re never afraid of nothing.”
“Of anything, Narcissa,” she had corrected me with a small smile on her face, “And I am very frightened. I am frightened someone will find him, and kill him. I am frightened someone will try to hurt you. Because I love you, and if anything ever happened to you, I don’t know what I would do.”
I need him to come back. I need him to make Mummy happy. She deserves to be happy more than anyone I know. But he won’t come back, whether he is brave or not. So…
The only way for me to ever meet my father is – to go find him myself. I have no clues of where he is. The only sign I have of him even existing anymore is this letter. And there isn’t even proof that it is him. It doesn’t have a name.
I let out a sigh of resignation, and come down the stairs to sit beside Luna as she edits pages for her magazine.
“Luna, where did my mother go?”
“She went to go meet with some people.”
“Where?”
“Knockturn Alley.”
“What?” I cry, unable to believe it. A good, respectable woman like Mummy would never be seen in such a place.
“There’s just a few people she needs to see,” Luna says, turning to me. Her wide, pale eyes stare at me for a moment, before she says, “Why were you going through your mother’s stuff?” And she turns back to her papers.
“I, well, I – wait, how did you know?” I say, stunned.
“Do not go looking for your father, Narcissa Rose. It is better if he is left unfound. For your and your mother’s safety.”
“You went to school with him, too, right?”
“Yes.”
“Did you like him?”
“We never spoke. But, I do remember that he always had an aura around him that made me think he was infested with Pheeops. Pheeops are not good to have around you, you know.”
“I know,” I say, even though I don’t know. She meets my eyes for a second and smile slightly, before turning back to her work.
“Harry and Ronald never liked him much, so I just assumed he was a rotten boy,” she added.
“But he changed. He must’ve changed, if he fell in love with Mummy. He changed for her, the letter said so, he--” I cover my mouth. No wonder Mummy didn’t want me to know my father’s name! Apparently I can’t keep my mouth closed.
“I know about the letter. He might’ve changed. I wonder if he’s still infested with Pheeops, though. Hmm,” she says thoughtfully, “But don’t you worry about it. And don’t keep it from your mother than you know, because she’ll find out.”
Just that second Mummy Apparated in. I look at her. “Why were you in Knockturn Alley?”
She raises an eyebrow, looking at Luna, who is back at her papers. She looks back at me, and a small grin creeps onto her face. “Why were you looking in my box?”
“I know who my father is.”
She lets out a sigh, “I knew this day would come.” Examining me for a second, she nods, “Okay. But you can’t tell anyone, that is very important. For your own safety--”
“And yours, and his,” I say with a small nod, “I get it. I’ll stay quiet.”
Luna smiles faintly, “She’s so mature for a seven-year-old. Perhaps she has a case of--”
“She doesn’t have a case of anything,” says Mummy, looking at me with a laugh. I giggle, too. She reaches into her pocket. “How much do you want, Luna?”
“Oh, I don’t want anything. I’ve gotten plenty more work done here than I ever do in my house.”
“Why is that?” I ask curiously.
“Because my attic is infested with Zyttos. They’re nasty little buggers who make an awful lot of racket. In fact, I might just stay here. Would you mind?”
Mummy smiles at Luna, shaking her head, and then turns back to me, “Cissa, dear, I know you have a lot of questions… and I do want to answer them, but I think we’ve learned enough for today. Don’t you?” I nod. “Good. So, let’s go visit the Ministry of Magic.”
I am sorry I left with so little notice. I don’t think there is a way I could further express how much it pained me to leave, but it’s for your own safety. We cannot tell anyone we were ever together, because then they will suspect you. And, right now, anyone they suspect is considered guilty. Clearly the old phrase “innocent until proven guilty” has worn out. But, my darling, please don’t be upset. Please, don’t worry about me. Please, don’t be mad at me. And please, don’t come looking for me. This owl will not return to me, and any other owl will fail in trying to track me down. For your own safety – since that is what I care most about – move on, and help fix up the wizarding world now that the Dark Lord is gone. Be happy, and do not worry.
I would also like to tell you how these past four years have impacted on me. You have made me who I am, Ginny, and for that, I thank you. We hid our love, but it is there, stronger than anything I’ve ever felt. You will always be in my heart, and I will always be thinking about you. Thank you for being who you are, and never change yourself.
Enclosed I have left the money I kept with me during times of the war – my ‘just in case’. I hope that it will help you, since I know times will get more difficult. Please, keep it, and please, spend it, because I have little use for it, and the death of my father has left me with everything he has. I have left what he left me in the bank. I wish I could give it all to you, although it does looks suspicious to take out from it, and since it is his account, and he is dead, that would seem a little strange – also considering I’m missing and presumed dead as well.
I also would like to let you know how my mother died. My mother cared for me – she loved me, and was the only person I had ever felt love from before you. She did everything in her power to try to get the Dark Lord to not kill me for not doing my assigned task and that resulted in her death. She died trying to save me, Ginny, and I can’t let that happen to you. I know you want to help me, and I hereby forbid you. If it is ever safe again, I will contact you.
Please, never forget me, as I will never forget you.
I love you.”
No name is signed.
There is another, smaller envelope inside of it titled “Just in Case”. It is empty.
What is funny is how this letter matches the articles. I know, suddenly, who the letter is from. It must be from that Draco Malfoy. Was he my father? On one hand, I’m furious at him. How could he leave a ninteen-year-old pregnant woman, whom he loves, on her own like that? Although, he didn’t know she was pregnant, did he? He did give her some money, which is generous, I suppose (I can’t help but wonder how much money he gave her). Clearly the Malfoy family is very, very rich, if he can just give her a whole lot of money (Well, I’m assuming it’s a whole lot of money. It wouldn’t be very helpful if he just left her with two Sickles, now would it?). Or – was. But my spirits lift slightly, because my father isn’t dead. And if he is dead, he didn’t die when all the articles said he did. I put the letter back in, close the box, smiling slightly, and go to put it under the bed when I spot a loose clipping from a newspaper on the floor. It must’ve fallen out of the box. It is a picture. A picture of a blonde-haired boy in his late-teens, with eyes that - I think with a small, affectionate smile – look just like mine. The picture wasn’t taken when he was looking, it seemed, and although the boy is young and is good-looking, his pale, pointed face shows signs of worry, and there are bags under his eyes. Signs of exhaustion are on his face, and I can’t help but look at him and feel a pang of pity. The moving wizard picture is of him looking around in worry. The picture looked crumbled, and the magic in the picture is fading slightly, as if it was held and admired many times. There are even a few tear stains, which, I assume from who the box belongs to, are my mother’s.
I put the picture into the box, and tuck it away under the bed. I feel as if I can breathe again.
I know my father’s name.
His name was Draco Malfoy.
His father – my grandfather - was killed by Aurors. His mother was killed because she tried to save him. My grandmother gave her life to save her son, who is my father. He has inherited a lot of money. He loves my mother, and it pained him to leave her.
The man who I had always imagined would come back, a knight in shining armour, a hero, I notice now won’t come back at all. His letter clearly states that. I remember that when Mummy tells me her story, I always make a comment that he is a coward. And I can see Mummy doesn’t like it when I say that, since she feels he is braver than she by leaving. She told me once that if she was truly brave, she would go find her. Yet she fears for her and his life and doesn’t. So I told her, “But you’re never afraid of nothing.”
“Of anything, Narcissa,” she had corrected me with a small smile on her face, “And I am very frightened. I am frightened someone will find him, and kill him. I am frightened someone will try to hurt you. Because I love you, and if anything ever happened to you, I don’t know what I would do.”
I need him to come back. I need him to make Mummy happy. She deserves to be happy more than anyone I know. But he won’t come back, whether he is brave or not. So…
The only way for me to ever meet my father is – to go find him myself. I have no clues of where he is. The only sign I have of him even existing anymore is this letter. And there isn’t even proof that it is him. It doesn’t have a name.
I let out a sigh of resignation, and come down the stairs to sit beside Luna as she edits pages for her magazine.
“Luna, where did my mother go?”
“She went to go meet with some people.”
“Where?”
“Knockturn Alley.”
“What?” I cry, unable to believe it. A good, respectable woman like Mummy would never be seen in such a place.
“There’s just a few people she needs to see,” Luna says, turning to me. Her wide, pale eyes stare at me for a moment, before she says, “Why were you going through your mother’s stuff?” And she turns back to her papers.
“I, well, I – wait, how did you know?” I say, stunned.
“Do not go looking for your father, Narcissa Rose. It is better if he is left unfound. For your and your mother’s safety.”
“You went to school with him, too, right?”
“Yes.”
“Did you like him?”
“We never spoke. But, I do remember that he always had an aura around him that made me think he was infested with Pheeops. Pheeops are not good to have around you, you know.”
“I know,” I say, even though I don’t know. She meets my eyes for a second and smile slightly, before turning back to her work.
“Harry and Ronald never liked him much, so I just assumed he was a rotten boy,” she added.
“But he changed. He must’ve changed, if he fell in love with Mummy. He changed for her, the letter said so, he--” I cover my mouth. No wonder Mummy didn’t want me to know my father’s name! Apparently I can’t keep my mouth closed.
“I know about the letter. He might’ve changed. I wonder if he’s still infested with Pheeops, though. Hmm,” she says thoughtfully, “But don’t you worry about it. And don’t keep it from your mother than you know, because she’ll find out.”
Just that second Mummy Apparated in. I look at her. “Why were you in Knockturn Alley?”
She raises an eyebrow, looking at Luna, who is back at her papers. She looks back at me, and a small grin creeps onto her face. “Why were you looking in my box?”
“I know who my father is.”
She lets out a sigh, “I knew this day would come.” Examining me for a second, she nods, “Okay. But you can’t tell anyone, that is very important. For your own safety--”
“And yours, and his,” I say with a small nod, “I get it. I’ll stay quiet.”
Luna smiles faintly, “She’s so mature for a seven-year-old. Perhaps she has a case of--”
“She doesn’t have a case of anything,” says Mummy, looking at me with a laugh. I giggle, too. She reaches into her pocket. “How much do you want, Luna?”
“Oh, I don’t want anything. I’ve gotten plenty more work done here than I ever do in my house.”
“Why is that?” I ask curiously.
“Because my attic is infested with Zyttos. They’re nasty little buggers who make an awful lot of racket. In fact, I might just stay here. Would you mind?”
Mummy smiles at Luna, shaking her head, and then turns back to me, “Cissa, dear, I know you have a lot of questions… and I do want to answer them, but I think we’ve learned enough for today. Don’t you?” I nod. “Good. So, let’s go visit the Ministry of Magic.”
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