Disclaimer: I own only Karmina, Mr. Grossman and the other characters you do not recognize from Potterdom. A note, Amycus Carrow and Eldred Jugson are known Death Eaters though I do beef out their personalities a bit. Amycus' surname is not confirmed; I give props to the Harry Potter Lexicon for the hint. I gave Jugson his first name. Don't worry. More familiar characters are one their way. Maya Angelou owns the segment of the poem below. Oh and a huge thanks goes out to Tawa for being my beta. . .again. Her input meant everything!

"The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom."

-Maya Angelou

The morning of Karmina's sixteenth birthday dawned like all of her other birthdays-without recognition. It was rare for her to remember the day herself, let alone get any outward acknowledgement. She woke with the sun; it was a clear day though that was of little consequence to her. After stretching the kinks from her back, she swung her legs over the side of her cot and slipped her cold feet into a pair of moldy, tattered slippers. She pulled her mass of chestnut curls into a messy bun and pulled on a gray bathrobe she had picked up from the Red Cross. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she stumbled into the tiny, grungy kitchen and began pulling out a carton of eggs from the refrigerator.

By the time she had prepared two plates of eggs and had started on the coffee, her "guardians" lumbered into the kitchen. Eldred Jugson, the bigger of the two, fell into one of the spindly kitchen chairs which groaned under his enormous weight. He cradled his bald, fat, misshapen head in his hands moaning about "bloody hangovers". Amycus Carrow, who hadn't gone out with Eldred the night before, leaned against the counter, grinning evilly at Karmina. His cool gaze sent a shiver down her spine as he brought up his hand to stroke the side of her face. She felt tears prickle behind her eyes but bit them back, focusing on the coffee maker. "And how are we today muffin?" he asked in a harsh, grainy voice. She didn't speak; she never spoke.

Keeping her head down, she brought the two plates to the table and placed one in front of Eldred and the other in front of Amycus' normal spot. Rolling his eyes, Amycus took the seat. "And what about forks ya dozy munter," he exclaimed, banging a fist on the table. Karmina immediately placed the utensils on the table, deciding to keep as far away from him as possible for the rest of the day. Once the coffee was ready, she placed the pot on the table along with cream, sugar, mugs and spoons. "Get outta my sight!" Amycus spat, pouring liberal amounts of sugar into his coffee. She didn't waste time, scurrying to her "room."

She didn't get up from her bed before she heard the lock click in the door signifying Eldred's and Amycus' departure. After checking through the kitchen window that they were in fact gone, she gathered up a brownish frock and graying, threadbare undergarments before walking to the bathroom. After her shower, she pulled on her second-hand clothes and gazed at herself in the mirror. Objectively and at her most truthful, Karmina would describe herself as exceedingly average. She had dull, brown eyes and thin lips. While her hair, if cared for properly, could have been lovely, it instead fell in limp curls. Her face was too angular but not completely unfortunate. She was short for her age and too thin making her look at least three years younger than she really was. For the most part though, no one really looked at her. For the most part, no one noticed poor little Karmina in flat 118, alone scared and silent.

"Sixteen" she thought to herself. "Today, you are sixteen." Drawing herself up, she braided her hair into one long rope that hung down her back and prepared for her daily chores. Her "guardians" left a daily list of tasks she was to complete before they got home in the evening; these were to be carried out in addition to cleaning the flat and cooking. She ambled into the kitchen and found the list sitting on the table next to the dirty breakfast dishes. She poured herself a cup of coffee and put a piece of bread in the toaster.

Today, she was to deliver packages to rooms 113, 223, and 316- Mr. Dougle, Mr. Tibbin, and Mr. Grossman respectively. While the very sight of Mr. Tibbin and Mr. Dougle frightened her, she had a soft spot for Mr. Grossman. He was the only person in her building to ever show her any kindness. She was also expected to sign for packages in the afternoon and make sure the delivery truck stopped by the launderette next door. Though Karmina had never been privy to any information on Eldred and Amycus' career, she had no doubt it was highly illegal. It also required them to be gone often. Their absences had become much more numerous over the past three years and she couldn't help but think they were up to no good.

The bathroom, bedrooms, and kitchens also needed a good washdown. These chores would no doubt leave her busy. She washed down her toast with coffee and hopped to work. After washing the dishes and scrubbing the bathroom and kitchen, Karmina decided to deliver the packages. She delivered first to Mr. Dougle who leered at her suggestively, causing her to move away as fast as possible. Mr. Tibbin wasn't at home so she left the package with Viviane, his very hermaphroditic looking mistress.

Mr. Grossman was waiting for her and opened the door with a smile. "Thank you m'dear," he greeted, stepping aside to let her in. She nodded hello and handed him the package which he set on the floor. "I have a nice pot of tea brewing if you have a few minutes." Karmina smiled and held up ten fingers. "Yes," he chuckled, "I'll keep it to ten minutes."

He brought out the tea a moment later along with some jam filled biscuits. "You need to put some more meat on those bones," he commented, eyeing her thin arms. She blushed and took a bite of one of the biscuits. He spent the rest of the visit explaining how he found the tea. A friend of his, lovely Nigerian woman, gave it to him as a gift. It was a blend of lemon balm. . . The one-sided conversation was peppered with his worried queries-Was she getting enough to eat, drink? Was the flat a bit too cool, too warm?

After exactly ten minutes, Karmina finished off the last of her tea and stood. "At least take some biscuits for yer self," Mr. Grossman pleaded handing her a few wrapped in a napkin. She nodded and smiled before heading back to 118. She got there just in time to sign for some packages and started in on Eldred's bedroom. It took a good hour and a half to wade through the mess and by then it was a couple hours past noon. Amycus' room was more neat and she managed in just under an hour. Her room was only an over-sized utility closet and therefore needed no cleaning.

She had been checking out the window periodically to see that the truck made it to the launderette but it still hadn't arrived. Waves of uneasiness overtook her. Anything that went wrong was somehow always pinned on her and Eldred and Amycus had a lot riding on this delivery. It would not be good if it did not show up. After giving the house one more once-over and hoovering the living room carpet, she sat down for a small amount of rest.

She tried to absorb herself in a book but found her apprehension impeded on her concentration. Once evening arrived, Karmina was forced to begin preparing dinner though she knew food would be the furthest thing from anyone's mind. Amycus and Eldred would no doubt be home within the hour and the news of the missing truck would certainly send them into a rage. She kept glancing out the window as she set a pot on the stove to boil. She poured canned tomatoes, tomato sauce, basil, oregano, salt and pepper into a saucepan and set it to simmer.

The smell of the herbs calmed her somehow and she let a little warmth flow from her into the food. Ever since her youth, she had known she was different. Strange things happened she could never explain. Had she ruminated on it, she might have put her special abilities and the long, slender sticks she sometimes saw Amycus and Eldred carrying together. She had never done this however and kept her secret to herself like a hidden piece of Belgian chocolate.

Slowly, the strange power seemed to take over and claimed her voice. She remembered it well, a particularly memorable beating. She had been eleven and had remembered crying out as a belt collided with her thigh. Eldred, the veins in his forehead throbbing, had screamed at her to be silent or everything would be worse. The power in her took away her voice, knowing it would only cause her more pain. Ever since, she had not uttered a word except in song. Sometimes, when she was all alone, she could sing.

She poured a box of spaghetti into the pot of boiling water and cut up a cold sausage, sliding the chunks into the sauce. Just as she was adding a little more black pepper to the simmering sauce, she heard Amycus and Eldred's car pull up. The ignition puttered out and Karmina braced herself for the blow. Her bruises had just recently started to heal from the previous "mis-hap"-one much smaller than the missing truck.

She felt her legs buckle as a key turned in the lock. The door opened and Eldred and Amycus stepped in, kicking off their shoes and stepping into the kitchen. She didn't turn to see them, hoping she could turn invisible. She willed herself, told her body to become transparent, to disappear. Eldred lumbered off to his room to change into something more comfortable while Amycus checked the packages by the door. She felt him come closer, felt his hand rest on the small of her back as he leaned in sickeningly close to smell the sauce. "And how was our day princess?" he hissed. She felt the stomach squirm. "The truck made it I trust?"

Karmina couldn't move. She stood stalk still, her hand clutching the wooden spoon still half immersed in the sauce. "Well?" Amycus prompted, an edge creeping into his voice. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt sweat trickled down her forehead. Closing her eyes, she slowly shook her head "no".

The reaction was automatic. With a mighty blow, Karmina crashed into the wall, the scalding pot of water falling on her. Amycus stood over her, his face red and his eyes narrowed. "You worthless, you good-for-nothing, you, you," he seemed at a loss for words. He brought his leg up and with an arching motion, brought it crashing into her abdomen. She doubled over in pain but said nothing. She was slowly feeling consciousness leave her. Her skin burned and her head ached.

Hearing the racket, Eldred came back in, still pulling a shirt over his heavy torso. "What happened?" he asked dumbly.

"The truck never made its delivery."

"Bloody hell, some wofoidhre witch she is." Karmina wasn't sure she had heard correctly. Wofoidhre? Witch? Since when was she a witch, and what on earth was a wofoidhre? She wasn't given much time to ponder his comment as she felt herself lifted forcefully to her feet and thrown across the room. The fun was just beginning. As she collided with the wall, the blackness overpowered her.

When she awoke, she was in her "room" with her dress still on. She didn't know why she had awoken; with the amount of damage Eldred and Amycus had done, she should not have awoken again. Something had welled up inside her, however, forcing her from unconscious. She knew what she had to do; something she had needed to do for some time-run away. She pulled a small trunk from under bed. It was the only relic of her former life. Surprisingly, only she was able to open it, much to Amycus' and Eldred's annoyance. It swung open with ease and she brought out a small, wrinkled piece of paper-her birth certificate.

Karmina Eileen Lupin

Born: the second of August in the year of our lord 1981

Father: Remus John Lupin

Mother: Madeline Rose Lynch Lupin

2.85 kilograms, 45 centimeters

Home: London

It was the only evidence that she had had parents once and because of this, she treasured it more than any other of her meager possessions. It was also her only clue as to where she would find her family. Not having seen another birth certificate before, she didn't think the mere pronouncement "London" odd. After checking to make sure it was safe, she clicked the small trunk closed and pulled clothes from under her bed. She needed to cover up the burns and bruises as much as possible if she was going to make a safe getaway. The last thing she needed was a nosy clerk to slow her journey. Last night's beating had been the worst she had ever endured. More troubling, however was Eldred's comment. How could she be a witch and a whatever-you-call-it and what would that have to do with anything?

Though it was still summer, she pulled on a large, white wool jumper and a pair of black leggings. She pushed her feet into a pair of tattered trainers and slowly, cautiously exited her "room". She made her way softly to the kitchen, quickly finding the coffee can in which Eldred kept his spare money. She had seen him hiding the cash on several occasions. She slipped the crumbled wad into the pocket of her jumper and, with trunk in hand, crept toward the door, inching it open silently.

The sun was not yet up and she couldn't guess it was later than four. She made her way to the train station, avoiding the dodgy alleyways. For some reason, her pain was kept at a dull ache like something was somehow suppressing it to allow her to move foreword.

She finally made it to the train station where she was met with a dozing teller. She knocked sharply on the window with her knuckles alerting the portly man to her presence. She mimed the need of a pen and paper which the man, looking at her strangely slid her through the small slot. She scribbled the words London, soonest available train as quickly as possible, sliding him the paper and pen. He nodded, arching his eyebrows. She pointed at her throat and then shook her head. The man seemed to understand.

"Next available train to London leaves at five o'clock, in a half hour. Single ticket'll cost you a hundred and fifty pounds." He said all of this very loudly as if he thought she was also deaf. She slid the bills to him and accepted the ticket. Judging from his sympathetic stare, she looked a mess.

She hurried to the bathroom before he could comment. Looking in the mirror she nearly gasped. Her hair was falling from its braid and an angry welt stood out against her cheek. She had not remembered a blow to the face. Her lip was puffy and sported a line of dried blood. Luckily, nothing more could be seen, covered up by her clothes. She set down her trunk and ticket and let loose her braid. With deft fingers, she redid the braid and washed the dried blood from her face.

With a sigh she hurried out, hoping to find a little breakfast. She made it to the train with a cup of tea and a large, dripping Danish. Collapsing into a seat, she felt her body go limp and a sharp pain flared, quickly cooled by her unnamed power. She didn't think it would suppress the pain much longer.

She must have fallen asleep for she awoke to the announcement that they were pulling into Charring Cross Station. She supposed London was London and Charring Cross was as good a station as any. She gathered up her trunk and stood up. She was numb all over and didn't feel like she would make it very far. The train pulled in and she slipped off quickly, not hearing the announcement over the speakers. "Everyone stay put-not safe-stay put!" Once again, nobody noticed Karmina.

She stepped out into the glinting morning sun only to be pushed down forcefully by a rough hand. "I thought we got the message to the train!" the voice exclaimed in a low voice. She struggled against the hand. "Stay put my dear; I won't let you get hurt." His voice was comforting and she felt herself give in; she wouldn't be able to over-power him anyway. She looked up to see a street full of people in long robes carrying sticks. Some of them wore dark robes with masks over their faces. Bright lights shot from the many sticks; it looked like some sort of battle.

With a crack she felt herself being squeezed through a long rubber tube. She felt her lungs constrict and a hand tightened around her forearm. "It'll be over in a minute m'dear." Just as she felt she was going to die the feeling subsided and she found herself outside a normal looking telephone booth. The man led her inside and dialed something. A cool automated voice welcomed them and asked for the man's name and business. "Arthur Weasley and guest," he said quickly. "Battle, safety." Two badges spit out and Arthur pinned one on himself and handed the other to Karmina, letting go of her arm. She pinned it on, her head becoming foggy. Once they were in the grand entrance, the man, Arthur, turned to her. "What's your name dear?" Karmina shook her head, touching her throat.

Again, she mimed for a pen. With a wave of his wand, a quill and parchment materialized. She blinked a few times but took the tools none the less. Not knowing quite what to write she scribbled her father's name, hoping against hope this man would know something about him. Something in her told her he would.

She handed Arthur the parchment. He studies the words for a few minutes, not knowing quite what to say. Remus Lupin? True it wasn't a common name but why was some muggle girl looking for him? Could she be a Death Eater in disguise? "Why are you looking for Remus Lupin?" he asked, his voice sounding harsher than he had meant it to be. She winced but grabbed the quill and parchment again. "I'm his daughter," she scribbled hurriedly. She bent down and set the trunk still clutched in her other hand on the floor, opening it. She drew out her birth certificate, handing it to Arthur.

He studied it, wondering what to make of it. "Come with me dear," he murmured, all thoughts of the ensuing battle disappearing. She followed him, her legs now moving much more slowly. Arthur looked back at her worriedly. "What happened to you?" he murmured, half to himself. They arrived at a long wall of fireplaces. Arthur pulled out a small bag and threw in some dust. The flames went green and he stuck his head inside. In a soft voice so no one would hear he murmured "Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."

Luckily, Remus Lupin was sitting at the kitchen table, discussing something softly with a raven-haired boy and a woman with bubble-gum colored hair. "Remus!" Arthur exclaimed. Remus' head shot up, looking at the balding wizard in surprise.

"Something wrong Arthur?" he asked, worry filling his eyes.

"Yea, what's going on Mr. Weasley?" the boy asked.

"No, no-well, sort of. Listen Remus, there's a girl here. I found her coming out of Charring Cross Station in the middle of a battle. She's battered up, big bruise, bloody lip. I brought her to the Ministry; didn't feel I had many options. I asked her who she was but she can't talk. She claims, it's so ludicrous, but she claims you are her father. She's looking for you!" The three at the table looked at him in shock. Arthur looked between them, his gaze finally settling on the werewolf, waiting for his reply. Just then, he heard a small thud from behind him. He looked around and saw the girl had collapsed. "Just come down to the Ministry Remus. She's just fainted."

A/N: Hehehe, a cliffhanger . . .sort of. I know I'm supposed to be working on Ella's story but the idea popped into my head and I decided to distance myself from Fever Dreams/Making My Way for a little while. Please give me your input. REVIEW!