1 The Beginning

What can I say? What can I say looking back on my life, thinking how much – or indeed – to little I have accomplished?

What can I say that would sum up my life from a certain point? I suppose it all started that summer. The one when we went to collect Harry from his uncles house…

Well, I can hardly say I've accomplished a lot in my life. I just hope that I can accomplish any small task that gets asked of me. Yeah. I've screwed up my life bad.

Where should I start? The beginning is a good place I suppose. But the beginning was so long ago. Almost a different void of time and space. I guess I'll just have to start as of when Harry came to stay…

I was intrigued as I led the boy through the clear night sky. I'd heard so much about him. How he was so brave, courageous and all that malarkey. How he'd got through magical barriers meant to challenge a genius guarding the Philosophers stone with only the aid of his two friends Hermione and Ron at the age of eleven. How at the tender age of twelve he had saved Ginny Weasley from death and defeated Slytherin's monster as well as Tom Riddle. When he had just entered his teens he learnt the Patronus charm and mastered it in such a way that an expert sorcerer could only hope to rival his power. And of course, his latest escapade of him not only surviving the Triwizard Tournament, but winning it too! And how he narrowly escaped Voldemort.

I must admit that I couldn't help wondering if this was the right boy. I mean, he was small. Skinny. Bespectacled. A bit of a – what's the muggle word for it now? Ah yes – geek. He was hardly the typical hero we commonly stereotype.

The boy I'd thought of had been a lot more muscular. More macho. Cooler. I dunno. I must admit though he was very good at flying!

They came eventually. Its funny how time goes by so slowly when you watch the hands go around the clock face. Tick. Tick. Tick. It's like a little song. Not a very good one, with a lack of variation. Hmm…

The mind of the bored and impatient is like a crossroad of paths. Each one to be rambled upon at one's free will. That's what I am guilty of right now. Rambling.

Oh well. I've little else to do these days. I'm constantly in this gloomy household. The Most Noble House of Black. Pssh.

If everyone knew how truly grotesque it is in this dank household, they wouldn't bother coming. They probably wouldn't bother writing in the fear that their owls would succumb to some deadly disease.

Nests of Doxies are scattered about the place. Boggarts. Gnomes. And not to mention that annoying twerp of a house elf Kreacher. He creeps us all out. Especially the kids. Call it paranoia but I cant help waking up in the middle of the night hearing phantom shrieks of Kreacher prowling around in their rooms. Not merely searching for hideous heirlooms of the Black family, but molesting them as they sleep.

Dumbledore must be mad if he thinks he can set up a secret organization in a place as grotty as this.

I tripped over that frightful umbrella stand again. Stupid thing. Now Sirius' mother is screeching insults at us all. Oh well. Nothing I haven't heard before.

'BLOOD TRAITORS…'

'Sorry Molly,' I apologise meekly as she hurriedly props the umbrella stand up against the wall. I dunno why she does it. If I were she, I'd chuck it in the garden and leave it for the gnomes and the other obnoxious creatures to piss about with. Sirius has come running after her, he looks well. He's just pulled the curtain over his mother. He's turning to his Godson. I can see the similarities in their spirits. Although I've only been talking to Harry a little while, and they are not blood relatives, I can see the same determined shine in their eyes.

'FILTHY MUDBLOODS!'

Sirius is peering into Harry's eyes. He's checking him over. Sirius is so adorable when he does that. Well, not adorable as such, more, I dunno. I can't really describe it. I hope that whoever's reading this understands what I'm trying to say. He looks up at me. For the first time in a while I see him smile.

'Hullo Nymphadora,' he teased.

I grinned. 'Hey.'

I suddenly felt very bashful. I hung my head forward and then realized that I had short hair. Pulling a face of concentration I quickly willed my hair to change to long glossy locks to hide my face. I glanced back up. Sirius was still looking at me, his hand on Harry's shoulder.

'You should wear your hair long more often,' Sirius smiled. 'You look so much prettier.'

As soon as Harry came in through the door Molly was up on her feet and bustling about. I decided to give him a minute. He was probably feeling quite overwhelmed. Yeah. I heard the umbrella stand toppling over. I sighed. Tonks I thought. I got up and hurried in Molly's wake. I got there to hear the portrait scream. I pulled the curtain over the portrait. Although the portrait is of my own flesh and blood, my mother, I do not dignify her by saying this. She is just a portrait.

I welcomed Harry into my household. I peered into his face, checking him over. He looked paler than usual but that determined shine was in his mother' eyes. I felt like a father to him then. Any parent knows this feeling. And knows how hard it is to explain. Those who are not parents can only begin to imagine that strange feeling you get.

I look up having finished my examination. Tonks is looking at me with a strange smile on her face. I like Tonks, although she is unbelievably clumsy, she's got a good heart and is surprisingly vicious at times. She's a kind soul. Any man (or woman – lets not rule out the possibilities) would be lucky to have her. If only for a brief while.

'Hullo Nymphadora,' I teased her gently.

She blushed when I said that. 'Hey,' she said. She hung her head forward. Her short spiky hair grew into long glossy locks that hid her pretty face. I smiled. I wish I could do that. It would be so handy. Being a supposed mass murderer, it's amazing I actually manage to walk in the garden without being spotted! She looks a lot prettier with her hair long.

'You should wear your hair long more often,' I said to her. 'You look so much prettier.'

Tonks went even pinker, unaccustomed to such compliments. She gave me a nervous grin. 'I'll bear that in mind,' she said to me. Harry looked up at me, looking a bit pissed off. I suppose I would be too, so I'm not going to judge. I get someone to show him to his room, I don't really take in whom, I'm transfixed at Tonks' long hair. She's so lucky to have the ability to change her identity in the snap of her fingers.