I've called so many people Mother, it's hard to name all of them. I didn't know some of their names, I was so little. I just remember them comforting me, and putting on their masks and playing with me. The masks didn't scare me, even though they were modeled after skulls. I liked how light reflected off them onto my crib, and chasing the light. When they shook their heads and walked away, I made one last grab at the light before it went with them, then gave up.
It's my birthday. June 1st. There will be no celebrations. The family I'm with now fell hard after Voldemort-yes, I say his name, why not?-perished. They're sure he died. They have moved on. Me, not so much. No, I don't believe Voldemort-the Dark Lord-is dead. I think he's waiting. Biding his time to strike.
No one even wishes me a Happy Birthday. This isn't that kind of household. It's not the cozy kind, the kind where laughter is common. It's the kind where everyone walks around, faces dour, where fun is a rarity. I'm not even sure I've ever had fun.
"Titiana! Mail for you!" Mother calls from the front hall. My footsteps echo on the black floors as I dash into the hallway, skidding almost into Mother. "Watch yourself," she scolds. I nod demurely. "Well, here's your mail." She hands a thick parchment paper envelope to me, addressed in green ink.
Titiana
Malfoy Mansion
Upstairs, First Bedroom on the Right
So, whoever sent the letter knew I had no last name officially. Right now I was Titiana Malfoy. A couple months ago I had been Titiana Goyle. That had been horrible.
I tore open the letter eagerly, unfolding another piece of parchment paper.
Dear Titiana,
You have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl no later than the 31st of July.
Minerva McGonagall.
This all was typed up quite neatly, but there was a scrawled note below.
Titiana, I'm sure you know that you are no ordinary wizard. You are the only daughter of Sirius Black. You know as well as I that he is innocent, and you should be honored. But I am not writing to you to talk of parentage. There is a letter written by your father before he went to Askaban enclosed, which he asked to be delivered to you upon your acceptance into Hogwarts. Please read it discreetly, and then destroy it. It is to be shown to nobody.
Albus Dumbledore.
There was a second neatly folded piece of parchment paper behind the first letter, but I quickly dismissed this as the list of school supplies. Behind that, even, lay a torn piece of paper, stained with what I hoped was not blood. I unfolded it carefully, trying not to rip the delicate parchment. It read:
My dear daughter,
You are eleven now, and if you are reading this, you have been accepted into Hogwarts. Congratulations! But I have a mission for you, to be completed in the utmost secrecy.
You must know, as you have been passed into the care of my nearest relatives, who have likely been not eager to take you, and passed you about in their inner circle of Death Eaters, that Voldemort was defeated many years ago. This amazing defeat was by the hands of a young boy named Harry Potter. You may know of him, and that he is now nine years old. He will come to Hogwarts in two years, when you will be a third year.
Your mission is to protect him at all costs. It may be difficult, and I may be delusional, giving this task to one so young, but I have confidence in you. There will be many who will try to hurt him, and though he will almost definitely be a powerful wizard, even at the age of eleven, but you must protect him.
I am sorry that I have no time to make this letter longer, and I wish there was more time to explain, and tell you about so many things, but I must go. My trial is soon. They all know it is unnecessary, that I will be convicted, but I am innocent.
And one more thing. Your name is not Titania. Your name is not Titania Malfoy. Your name is not even Titania Black. Your name is Isla Nigellus Black.
Sirius Black
"What's that, dear?" Mother came over and peered over my shoulder. I stuffed the letter from my father back in the envelope.
I pulled the original crumpled letter out from under my arm, folding it over so that Mother wouldn't see the extra note from Professor Dumbledore.
"Oh, wonderful! You've been accepted, just like little Draco will be when he's old enough." I turned away and rolled my eyes. "Little Draco" was the meanest little boy I had ever met, pinching and screeching at me every time I even looked at him "the wrong way." Mother and Father had already bought him his wand, and he was learning how to use it. His tutor, Yaxley, had started out teaching him all the curses, jinxes, and hexes he knew, and this was not going well for me.
I sighed and went up to my room. It was painted black, and thirteen large stone ravens sat about the room, giving it an eerie look. I had gotten them for my tenth birthday, the only gift I received.
I sat on my bed, staring at the letter, which I had taken out. A tear dripped down my face. How could Dumbledore have kept this a secret from me for so long? I had a right to know!
But never mind that, I had a mission, and I was determined to accomplish it.
