Authors Note: Inspired by excentrkyemuse and ell roche's world of Pureblood court and chivalry. Grammar and the use of the older English is not perfect.

Disclaimer and Warnings: I don't own anything Harry Potter or Tudors related. There will be slight mentions of possible abuse in the future.

Summary: This is a story about how the Evans line came into being. The Potter and Evans had a common ancestor...


Her delicate hand shook as she wrote the words that would be the end of her. Tears cascaded down her porcelain face, yet the picture presented was one of grieving beauty. A house elf shook his head sadly as he bore witness to his Mistress's pain.

The Lady wondered how it had all come to pass. Just ten years ago she was secure in the fact that her Lord loved her as she loved him, and they would not be parted except in death. Magic had decreed they were true mates, and the blending of their magic and souls led credence to the decree. Yet… they have had no children. No children to carry on the line. No children to play with and watch grow. No children to fill her belly and give her a radiant glow while her husband protected her.

Her Lord grew cold and distant, always looking through her and away. People whispered, that Magic would not grant her a child because she stubbornly refused to die for one. It was believed mothers on the verge of childbirth death could give up their life, their magic, for their child, and that child was always powerful. The Lady always stubbornly clung to life; she was the picture of vitality instead of shyness; bold instead of meek; and confident instead of demure.

It was her flashing grey eyes and shocking display of her dazzling hair that captured the attention of Society. She refused to wear her hair up like a proper maiden, letting only her family and husband see it so. She wore it down, auburn hair cascading down her back in multicolored hues in gentle curls. She was an abnormality: tall, yet powerful. It was well known the most powerful witches were short and petite. The Lady was tall and curvaceous, but power flowed out of her, attracting men like bees to honey.

Her Lord won her favor, because when their eyes met; they knew. They knew the moment her grey eyes clashed with his green that they would be bonded soon enough. Their magic called to each other, her red flame against his blue calm.

But that time has passed. He was out, she knew, courting a new lady who had captured his attention and who he believed was his true soul mate. But she knew better. She knew that they would never find another like each other, though he may be in love with another. She had come to the bitter realization that being one part of a soul did not guarantee the other loved you. You were drawn to each other and would have powerful children, but it was not set in stone. All it meant was that it was the best possible match.

She sealed her letter with her signet ring, the last time she would use it. Handing it to her regal Black Soot Owl, she closed her eyes with a sigh. She gave him a chance to come back, a chance for happiness, but he rejected her. Caressing her slightly swollen stomach, she vowed that he would never know of the heir he had finally gotten on her, and that she would raise her child to believe in Magic and what Magic does. Magic knows best, and she knows there must be a reason why her condition was prevented till now.

My love,

Dost thou doubt my love for thee? I protest thy doubt to be false, for never hath one seen the glowing radiance our mutual affections hath given one another. Despite the lack that we are facing, I believed thou to always stand by me while Society scorned me. For I believed our love to be true, and even now we are soul mates, despite thy disbelief. I dream, and long, for the days that passed in whimsy and happy haze in the manor by the sea.

What hath happened to us? Pretty words of affection replaced by ugly words of condemnation; I mourn for what hath been lost, but not for what hath passed.

This is a goodbye, love. I am letting thee go, though thou hast left me long ago in mind and body. We shall not look upon each other again, I think, unless by Chance.

Despite the unhappiness of later years, we were once great partners. I wish thee all the happiness in the world, may you find love again. I daresay I will not.

Farewell,

Eiryan Evansleigh-Potter

Lady of the Noble House of Potter

Lady of the Royal House of Gryffindor