*Okay, I know I have to say, just like you know what I'm going to say. I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the places, people, creatures, or objects found in either the books or the movies. They are all the wonderfully imaginative properties of J.K. Rowling. I do, however, have a wand, and a bad temper for those who use any of my original characters without my permission.*

Dear Father, Whoever you are,

I don't think I ever met you, or if I did, I'm sorry I don't remember you. I wish I knew more about you, but Auntie Priscilla says talking about you is a waste of time. Since I don't even know your name, or where you live, I can't send you letters. So I'll write to you in this diary. It was supposed to belong to Crystal, Auntie Pricilla's girl, but she didn't want it, so Auntie said I could have it. Maybe one day we'll find each other, and you can read all the letters I've written to you.

I guess I should have started by telling you who I am. My name is Anna Stone. I am eight years old, and I have long, dark brown hair and eyes that can't choose if they want to be soft green or dark yellow. My birthday is March 20. I live in Illinois with my Uncle Roland Stone, Auntie Pricilla, and my cousin Crystal. I have lived with them since I was three. Auntie says they got stuck with me when my mother, her sister, died, and that you didn't want me. I don't think I believe her. I know it's bad to think grown-ups are lying, but I heard them talking late one night. They were trying to find a way to get you to send money to them. Then Auntie said something about needing to show pictures, and Uncle said something about a potion.

Oh, you may have noticed that I can write really well. My teacher at the Muggle primary school says it's because I spend so much time reading. He says reading is good for children, that it helps them learn. I have one of the highest scores in the class. I have to be careful, though. If I get upset, I end up doing magic without meaning to. Then Uncle and Auntie get very mad at me.

That is all I can think to tell you right now. I'll write again tomorrow, if I can. I hope to meet you one day.

Love your daughter, Anna Stone

...

Anna laid down the quill she had been ordered to practice her writing with. Auntie Pricilla had said that she and Crystal would be going to a magic school when they were old enough, and all wizards and witches used parchment and quills to write. So each day, when they got home from the local Muggle primary school, the two girls were told to complete their homework, then practice with a quill for an hour.

Anna sighed softly, looking around her small room. Uncle Roland had used magic to add it on when Crystal began complaining two years ago that Anna took too much space in the room they had shared. So they had made a new room that was less than half the size of their precious daughter's and put Anna there. Anna thought they probably liked the arrangement better. They saw her when she did her chores, left or came home from school, and ate meals, but that was all. Her family didn't like her much.

She stretched, wincing at the aches from her earlier punishment. She had been ordered to attend the garden when she got home from school, and a few of the plants in the green house had been doing very poorly. She had tended to them, and they had perked right up. Literally. The plants had been pale and droopy, and they had brightened and lifted right before her eyes. Unfortunately, Crystal had seen it. Her cousin hated the fact that Anna had done her first accidental magic when she was only five, when her own had not come for two more years, when both of them were seven. So she often tried to get Anna in trouble whenever Anna's magic flared up.

This time, seeing she was working in the greenhouse, the blond-haired girl had rushed up and shoved Anna into a Venomous Tentacula plant. Instead of attacking Anna, as would have been expected, the vines simply grabbed her and set her down gently, then reached out to try and snare Crystal, the fanged flowers snapping viciously. Anna, fearing for her cousin, had delicately grabbed the vines and stroked them, urging them to calm down. Crystal had run crying to her parents, telling them Anna had chased her around the yard with the plant, threatening to feed her to it. And Anna was in trouble again.

Pricilla had used the cane this time, screaming at her for being so cruel and evil, then thrown her into her little room. Anna hated her room. It was in the basement, and the walls were of stone. Anna loved the outdoors, and nature, so being so cut off from it made her punishment worse. For as long as she could remember, plants and animals had liked her. Like the colony of Clabberts she found in the forest on her Uncle's land. The tree creatures looked like a cross between a monkey and a frog, and were rather cute in Anna's mind.

A pounding on the door cut off Anna's thoughts. She quickly tucked the diary under her mattress, just in time before her aunt opened the door. Roland was about six foot, ruddy-faced with carrot-colored hair, and a big, round belly. Pricilla was a bit shorter, though still tall for a woman, with mousy grayish brown hair, and was so fat she seemed to almost waddle when she walked. But both of them were more than strong enough to handle a petite eight-year-old girl.

Pricilla narrowed her grey eyes at her niece. "Don't stand there like an idiot," she snapped. "Get upstairs and get started on dinner. Not that you'll be getting any, with the stunt you pulled on your poor, sweet cousin."

Anna dipped her head, looking at the bare stone floor. "Yes, Aunt Pricilla," she said softly. She hurried past her glaring aunt and up the stairs to the kitchen. Dinner was soon ready, thanks to the fact that she often cooked for the family. Somehow, whenever she cooked, there always seemed to very little, but it turned out to be enough for the other three in the house to gorge themselves at each sitting. The groceries also seemed to stretch further…

Anna shook herself and focused on setting the table just right and serving the plates. A few minutes later, Uncle Roland, Aunt Pricilla, and Crystal were all seated and enjoying a delicious meal, while Anna was only allowed a few bites of the spinach, mainly because Crystal didn't want hers.

That night, Anna went to her little room, grateful for the tiny window high on one wall. There was grate on the outside, but the air that came in was fresh and filled with the smells of the forest. It took some time to find a position on her thin mattress on the floor that didn't make her back hurt, but she finally managed to slip off to sleep, dreaming of the open forests, of a tall man with laughing eyes that held her and said he was proud of her.

...

Far away, a man sighed wearily, staring at a jeweled locket. He gently opened the small ornament and gazed longingly at the picture inside, a small picture of a tiny baby girl, her sable curls held back by a pretty green ribbon, her bright eyes scrunched a little as she laughed. His finger tenderly traced each feature, features so much like his own. Five years he had searched. Five years since he had seen his precious child, since he had heard his baby girl laugh or seen her pretty eyes.

He had met the girl's mother and hired her as a secretary for his affairs. He had never pursued her, maintaining a professional distance from her. But the new woman had decided she would have him, not to mention his fortune. She had slipped him a powerful love potion, made him a slave to her will. Soon she was pregnant with their first child. He had been overjoyed, viewing the coming child as proof of their love.

Then, just before the babe was born, her supply of Amortentia had run out, and she had been barred from her potions lab on the Medi-witch's orders. The potion wore off, and he realized what had happened. Furious, he had gone home to find the maid in full labor. When the attending nurse placed his new daughter in his arms, he had felt his heart melt at the smile the tiny girl gave him. When his wife had demanded to hold her, he looked at her coldly.

"You may hold her," he had said. "Then you may say good-bye to her." At her shocked look, he had simply placed the newborn in her mother's arms. To the surprise of all, the girl took one look at her mother, then began to cry, her cries growing louder the longer she was held. His wife tried to nurse her, but the infant turned away, rejecting the woman that birthed her. Finally, the man had taken the distressed baby into his arms, and her cries ceased instantly.

He had divorced the woman soon after, showing proof of the woman using the love potions to declare their relationship null and void. The Ministry of Magic easily granted him custody of his daughter, denying the mother any contact. The next two years had been more than wonderful, they had been magical. Despite the circumstances that made her, he loved his little daughter with all his heart. He had raised her himself, preferring not to employ nannies. Though wealthy, his daughter was certainly not over spoiled. While her first word was a rather common "Daddy!" the next words she learned surprised all around them when the little toddler would fold her hands and softly say "Pwease?" Soon after, it had been joined by bright smiles and "Tank you!"

She had been two when he met his current wife. It was like finding a piece of himself he had not realized was lost. During their courtship, he insisted on meeting away from his home to prevent her knowing of his wealth. Though he did allow her to meet his little daughter, overjoyed when the toddler walked up to the auburn haired woman and said, "You my new Mama?"

His new wife had two sons, older than his daughter, but they quickly took to her. The three children were often seen together. That was, until the girl's mother had slipped in one night and taken his daughter from her room. They had vanished, and he had been searching ever since.

A warm hand fell on his shoulder, "We will find her," said his wife. "Come what may, we will find our baby."