DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT JK ROWLING
"Daddy!" Seven-year-old Desiree Travers bolted from her own bedroom and down the hall. "Daddy!" she shrieked again, poking her head into his room, seeing him already getting out of bed to comfort her.
"Des, what is it?" Anthony Travers asked the girl who, for six years now, had been his daughter. "Did you have a nightmare again?" he asked as he took her hand and began to lead her to the kitchen. Desiree nodded.
"Yes, a real scary one this time!" she insisted. "I dreamed I was all alone and it was dark and there were aurors coming for me," she explained looking up at him with concern. "Like they came for Mama," she said quietly. She couldn't remember her mother, but her father had explained that she had been killed by aurors when Desiree was only a year old.
"Aurors wouldn't come for such an adorable little girl like you," Travers assured her before instructing the house elf to make two mugs of hot cocoa. "And even if they did, I'd protect you." Desiree gave a small smile and crawled into his lap. "Tell me about Mama again," she said resting her head against his chest.
Travers smiled. Six years ago he had panicked when he realized he would have to explain the sudden appearance of a one year old daughter, but when it came to it, it hadn't been that hard. Those who were just acquaintances thought that yes, perhaps he did already have a daughter, that it was his second child he had been expecting when his wife died. After all, they didn't know Travers that well, and with all these young couples having children, well, it would have been easy to forget who belonged to whom. Closer friends and family were harder to explain the situation too. His parents and in-laws, who both knew of and shared his allegiance with the Dark Lord, had questioned no further when he mumbled something about a mission. They accepted Desiree as their granddaughter, as if she always had been. Other family and friends became much less suspicious after a few confundus charms and memory spells, and by the time that Desiree was celebrating her second birthday it was if no one could recall that there had never been a first birthday celebration.
That had left only Desiree herself to convince. The first few weeks were hellish. The baby had cried for her parents, screamed for her home and the old cat that at times had kept watch of the nursery. Travers had been patient. He was not rude or unkind to the child. Instead he pampered her, referred to himself as Daddy and soon she grew accustomed to her new surroundings and one day, five weeks after he received her, she had looked up at him and called him "Dada". It was then he knew that he was successful in his mission.
Later that year the Dark Lord had fallen, defeated by a boy no older than Desiree. Most ongoing missions ceased immediately, either because the Death Eaters behind them were arrested, or they were doing their best to avoid arrest. Travers, however, continued his mission. He had avoided suspicion as a Death Eater. After all, he had been tried after the death of his wife and found innocent, and there had been no evidence to suggest otherwise since then. He had made a promise to the Dark Lord that he would raise the girl and when Voldemort returned—which Travers believed he one day would—he would show that he had not given up, and had raised a daughter to belief in pureblood supremacy.
"Your mother was lovely," he told Desiree. "She was energetic, intelligent, and full of life." He smiled. "You have her eyes," he said, and it wasn't far from the truth. The girl's blue eyes reminded him of Melissa's.
"But your hair!" Desiree said with a smile, having heard this before.
He laughed and ruffled the chocolate brown hair. "Yeah, my hair," he said.
"Why did the aurors take Mama away?" Desiree asked, accepting the cocoa from the elf.
"Because they didn't like her beliefs," Travers explained. "The aurors liked muggles, and because Mama didn't , they fought her."
"Meanies," Desiree said taking a sip of the cocoa. "Who were they Daddy? What happened to them? Did they go to Azkaban?" she asked.
He shook his head. "No, the ministry was on their side. They went free." He paused, gazing down at her. "But they were punished eventually," he said.
She looked up, curious; she hadn't heard this part of the story before. "How?" she asked.
"They were caught by other supporters of the Dark Lord," Travers explained. "A friend of your mother, Bellatrix Lestrange, tracked them down, and along with other Death Eaters, hurt them for what they did."
She was staring at him wide eyed now. "Did she use crucio?" she asked.
Travers nodded. "Yes," he said simply. "Remember I told you, that is what happens to muggle lovers."
Desiree nodded, awed by what he was telling her. "Did she hurt them a lot?" she asked.
"She did," he confirmed. "They are now in St. Mungos. They're crazy," he explained. "Their names were the Longbottoms. They took your mother from us, but in the end, their minds were taken from them."
Desiree snuggled closer to him. "I'm glad they can't get me," she whispered.
"Me too," he agreed, draining his own mug of hot cocoa. "Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?"
Desiree nodded. "If you tuck me in," she said.
"Of course," he picked her up, and carried her to her room, helping her into the bed. She was half asleep by the time he turned off the light. "Goodnight baby," he whispered, and then made his way back to his own room. On the nightstand was a picture of Melissa. He let out a sigh, each time Desiree mentioned her he was reminded how the girl came to him. That she was not really his. 'Stop that,' he told himself. 'She's yours, she's your daughter.' He took another look at the picture and then with a flick of his wand shut off the light. He would continue his mission, he would raise Desiree, and no auror would be able to stop him.