"Your name is Cadence Coleman?" asked Lotus McGivney as she sat before. I sighed and put my hands on the table. It was going to be a very long day if she was going to ask obvious questions, especially after she made it very clear that she knew who I was already. "Please, answer the question."

"Yes, my name is Cadence Coleman," I finally said.

"You were born on the fifteenth of September of the year 1960?"

"Yes."

"Your Grandfather was Caldwell Coleman?"

"Yes," I said dryly.

"And your Grandmother was Christine Coleman?"

There was a pause as McGivney wrote on her notepad. She pulled an open file folder closer to her and flipped some of the loose leaf papers, looking for something specific.

"This is your American birth certificate?" she asked placing the paper in front of me.

"It's a photo copy of my birth certificate."

"You were not born here in England."

"Obviously," I said. Her blue eyes flashed at me with a venomous glare, which caused me to frown. The old woman was rightfully named Lotus—she looked like an old poisonous bug that should not be crossed. I realized very quickly that I should watch my smart mouth during the interrogation. In my defense, McGivney shouldn't have asked such obvious questions—she was opening the door for a cheeky comment from me.

"Your Mother is Candice Coleman?" she continued after moments of staring at me.

"Yes," I said softly.

"When did she die?"

"Summer of seventy six." My fist clenched on the table causing my knuckles to turn white. I did not want to talk about my Mother, her death, or her past life.

"How did she die?"

"Before we continue can you please explain to me the importance of these questions?" I asked.

Lotus McGivney blinked at me. "To make sure you are adequately prepared mentally for the grueling job ahead of you. If you are not mentally stable and have psychological problems then you will not be able to handle the darkness that hovers over those who hunt Death Eaters."

It was my turn to blink at the old woman. "Listen lady, I'm more then capable of handling the darkness that hovers over me. I've been handling it since my Mother died when I learned who she really was—"

"Who was she?" asked McGivney interrupting me.

I frowned. "It doesn't matter who she was."

"Obviously it does," McGivney said. "If you feel that it was her death that triggered you to become closed-off, violent and untrusting."

This made me frown deeply. "Is this a test or a therapy session? Because I don't need therapy."

"Some would argue otherwise, Miss Coleman. It is not often considered normal for an individual, especially a young woman, to seek comfort from her stress by killing off Death Eaters."

"I don't kill them unless it is in self defense."

"And yet you believe that you cannot lock them up because they will simply escape Azkaban. You also receive a certain thrill from the hunt, don't you?"

I frowned deeply. "What is this about? Are you saying I'm no better then them? I kill and hunt for the rush?"

"Yes, that is what I am saying."

"You know nothing," I growled leaning over the table towards her. "You have never felt the fear of losing your life, or the life of those you love. You have never made the choice between the life of a Death Eater and the life of an innocent person. It is not an easy choice. Forcing someone's death as if you're all mighty is not an easy choice."

"Why do you choose it?"

"If it's down to my life or the bastards, I'll choose mine, thank you," I said defensively. "And I image you'd say the same—you'd either fight for your life or beg for it. Anyone would."

"Tell me how your Mother died Miss Coleman."

I frowned as she ignored my comment. She really wanted to talk about my Mother, probably because everything in my life connected to my Mother's death somehow. First of all, I wouldn't have been there in that office in England if it weren't for her death. Secondly, my relationship with Sirius and my friends wouldn't exist. Gabriel would not be a thorn in my heart. I would not be a godmother to Harry Potter. Third, my Mother's death was connected to my Father because he was the one who wished her dead, and to Gabriel because he was the one who killed her. Essentially, my Mother's death made everything I was today—I wasn't sure suddenly if that was a good or bad thing. I found myself wondering if I could go back in time, and prevent her death, would I?

"She died in our home in America," I sighed as I rubbed my head. I didn't like that I was giving into McGivney's conversation topic. "Death Eaters attacked us, she was stabbed and fell down the stairs. I killed one of them…injured the other."

"How is it a young, not fully trained witch managed to defeat fully grown Death Eaters? One of them being Gabriel Quintin—a legend of our time."

"I don't know," I whispered.

"Why did Death Eaters attack your home?"

"Voldemort learned of my existence and was hunting for me. He wanted my Mother killed for betraying him."

"How did she betray him?"

I looked at McGivney will dark eyes. She knew the answer to this question, almost the entire wizarding world did. "She left him when she was pregnant with me and did not tell him of my existence."

"Why is that significant?"

"Voldemort is my Father."

McGivney nodded and closed her file folder. She opened a new one and wrote something quickly on her notepad. I watched her as she read through the top paper of the file folder, and then she looked at me. I blinked and glared at her.

"Tell me about your relationship with your Father."

I slammed my arm on the table and pulled back the sleeve of my shirt, revealing a nasty long scar that went from my wrist up to just below the inside of my elbow.

"He gave this to me about two and a half, maybe three, years ago. What does that tell you about our relationship?" I asked viciously.

"That it's complicated," she said.

"Hardly," I said sitting back. "It's quite simple actually. He's evil. I hate him. He wants me to join him. I won't. We are opposing forces, with powers to counter the others. We are the ultimate dualism of the world. Good and evil."

"He must be disappointed that his own flesh and blood has betrayed him," McGivney said. "You must be disappointed that your Father was never there for you."

"Yea," I said sarcastically. "It really tears me apart that my Father never had time to be there for me between murdering innocent people."

"Do you feel that your lineage holds you back in your other relationships?"

"Do I think the fact that because Voldemort is my Father it affects my other relationships?" I asked. McGivney nodded her head. "No."

She made a note on her pad and looked at me, waiting for me to elaborate. I sat in silence and crossed my arms over my chest. I was not going to tell her my life stories and the feelings that kept me up at night. She was sadly mistaken if she thought that was going to happen.

"Why do you feel that way?"

"A Father is more then a man who is older then you and is biologically related to you. A Father is someone who is important to you, who takes care of you and loves you unconditionally. Voldemort may have the same blood as me, but he is not my Father. He isn't capable of being a Father."

"Is there a father-figure in your life?"

"No," I said. "Nor a mother-figure. I've been alone for a long time now."

"Since her death?"

"I was alone before that," I shrugged. "She had lied about her past, and even if she tried to protect me…well…you don't lie to ones you love."

Lotus McGivney smiled suddenly and leaned back in her chair. She made a note on her paper and then put down her quill. It was her turn to cross her arms over her chest as she continued to smirk at me. I frowned deeply, realizing the hypocrite that I was.

"Let's talk about your partner Gabriel Quintin now," McGivney said still smiling.

This comment made me frown more. I didn't want to talk about Gabriel, especially after what I had just said…you don't lie to the ones you love…I was the biggest hypocrite and liar in the entire world. I rubbed my head and looked sharply at McGivney.

"You mean my ex-partner."

"Yes," she nodded. "That does complicate an already complicated relationship."

"Hardly," I retorted. "It's obvious that Gabriel wants nothing to do with me. I would say that the relationship is none existent now."

"Why do you think that is?"

"He's made it clear he doesn't want to see me," I said with some aggravation. I thought that much was obvious.

"Why doesn't he want to see you Miss Coleman?"

"Because I chose my boyfriend over him." My words were bitter and hateful. McGivney wrote quickly on her pad of paper and I'm sure she was commenting on my tone of voice. I didn't care what she wrote, and if I was held back form this job because of Gabriel I was going to be furious. He did not affect my work—I would never allow another person to affect my focus on the job, especially a man.

"It's ironic that you hate him now after everything you've two been through," she whispered. I raised my eyebrows at her, but didn't say anything. In my silence, she continued. "You didn't hate him after he kidnapped you and held you captive."

"He let me escape," I shrugged. "And there were many days that I did hate him, especially when he returned."

"Because he complicated your emotional feelings," concluded McGivney. "You loved your boyfriend," she paused and looked down at the folder in front of her. "Sirius Black, but you also felt feelings for Gabriel."

"Stockholm syndrome," I said with a shrug. "It's not real."

"And yet your partnership has been a consistent roller coaster of emotions for the last three to four years."

"Gabriel says he loves me," I whispered as I twisted my hair between my fingers. "I don't love him and he hasn't handled that well."

"Why are you so angry then?"

"Excuse me?"

Lotus McGivney leaned forward in her chair, peering at me over her glasses. I frowned deeply as her light stabbing eyes stared me down. Her eyes were all knowing, I hadn't felt her enter my mind, and yet I was sure that she knew every secret I kept deep within me. Perhaps that is why she was a psychologist of some sort. She was good at reading people.

"I'm very sure that you're private life is interfering with your work life," McGivney said sharply. "This causes you frustration, emotional distress and your loyalties to swift constantly."

"Excuse me?" I repeated. I was not surprised by her comment, because I figured that this psychological profile was to establish if I was a Death Eater or not, but that didn't mean that I wasn't offend.

"I'm afraid Miss Coleman, until you have come to terms with everything that you feel you have under control—and I assure you, you don't. You're world is falling to pieces around you—then I cannot clear you for active assignment."

"What?" I snapped sitting up straight.

"I cannot clear you for active assignment until you and I have had a chance to discuss and work out the social issues you face in your personal and emotional life."

"That is none of your business," I said defensively. "Nor is it the business of the Ministry. My private life does not affect my work."

"I'm afraid it does when you're work life is your private life," McGivney said sharply. She put her papers in the file folder, closed it and then dropped her quill on it. "Not to mention that your Father is Lord Voldemort. Therefore, your loyalties will always be in question." She stood up, and before I could argue her decision she left the room, leaving me alone with the large Auror who was guarding the door.