Thank you so much for your reviews so far! It's so great to see people enjoying this story. I had hoped to update this story (along with Toujours Noir) a little sooner but I have just moved and started a new job so busy, busy, busy! Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this latest chapter and please do drop me a review to let me know what you think!

"Bella?" Rodolphus called for his wife as he walked the halls of Lestrange manor, sighing as he noticed the door to his study slightly ajar. He slipped quietly into the room, his wife barely acknowledging her presence as she wrote with severe concentration. Scrunched up parchment littered the desk, attempts at whatever Bellatrix was trying to do disregarded as she sat back with a sigh, finishing the sentence she was writing with a flourish before she looked to her husband.

"Yes, Rod?" Bellatrix sighed, putting her quill down as she sat back in the chair. "How can I help you?"

"That seems like something I should be saying to you in my study." Rodolphus chuckled.

"I couldn't concentrate in our room." Bellatrix pouted "Or the sitting room or library or—"

"Yes yes, I get the gist." Rodolphus smirked, walking around his desk to his wife. He leant down to place a kiss on her lips, grinning as she responded eagerly.

"Wait—" Bella pulled back after a moment, rolling her eyes in amusement at her husband's pout. She pressed a light kiss to his pout, reaching up to stroke the small stubble on his chin. "I need to finish this first."

"Well . . ." Rodolphus kissed the witches fingers before forcing himself to take a step back, summoning a chair as he sat down next to his wife. "How can I help?"

"You can help by being quiet . . ." Bellatrix smirked, picking up her quill again.

"Oh come on." Rodolphus teased "Let me help. Please? What are you writing? A letter? To whom?"

Bellatrix regarded the man for a moment, chewing her lip in consideration before she answered him "Nymphadora."

"Who's that?" Rodolphus tilted his head in thought, trying to remember if he knew someone with such a name. He was sure he would remember it if he did.

"You don't know her." Bellatrix said.

"Well then who is she?" Rod frowned "How do you know her?"

"Rodolphus," Bellatrix scoffed "I'm aloud to know people that you do not."

"I never said you weren't." Rodolphus said "Though I believe you're avoiding the question . . . Who is she?"

"She is . . ." Bellatrix thought for a moment, she knew Rodolphus wouldn't approve of this. Though she also knew she could convince him of its advantages, no matter how she had to do it. "She's my niece."

"Your niece?" Rodolphus couldn't hide the confusion from his face "Narcissa doesn't have a—" realisation came over the man's face, his lips pursing together as he took a calming breath "Bellatrix?"

"Yes, Rodolphus?" Bellatrix asked, innocence dripping from her every syllable.

Rodolphus took a breath, pausing for a moment before he spoke again, staring intently at his wife "Does Andromeda have a child?"

"She . . ." Bellatrix hesitated before she looked to her husband. "She has a metamorphmagus child . . . Nymphadora. Who is nine—almost ten apparently."

"And how, pray tell, do you know this?" Rodolphus closed his eyes, trying to calm himself as he was sure Bellatrix had a good explanation to this.

"Well, I followed her—and Andromeda." Bellatrix gave the man a look as he opened his eyes to glare at her, ready to yell at her for such things. "I did not speak to her . . . Just Nymphadora, when Andromeda was distracted—I told the girl not to tell her mother of our encounter."

"She is a half blood, Bellatrix!" Rodolphus yelled, his annoyance too great as he stood from his chair.

"I know." Bellatrix replied, standing up to meet her husband "She is also a metamorphmagus—she can change her—"

"I know what a metamorphmagus is, Bellatrix!" Rodolphus hissed.

"Well then, you surely realise why I'm writing to her."

"No, I do not understand why you are writing to a nine-year-old half blood." Rodolphus sneered, pulling away as his wife reached out for him.

"I am writing to her because of our plan, Rodolphus." Bellatrix tried to get her husband to understand her, smirking as she saw the familiar glint of realisation in his eyes. "She will not be nine forever. She'll grow. She'll become a powerful witch, a witch who can change her appearance to be anything she desires—not to mention her Black blood, no matter how sullied it is. Now, Rodolphus, tell me: How would he feel if when he returned we could present him with such a powerful witch? I mean, surely—if he were with us now—he would encourage such a thing. I can tempt her away from her parents ways, be 'Auntie Bella', someone she can confide in, learn from, show her a better path . . . I mean, we could just kidnap her and convert her that way but that would be complicated—might raise suspicions when Mummy and Daddy go reporting such a thing to the ministry, no?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow at the man in her questioning, slowly stepping towards him again as she snaked her hand up his chest and around his neck, pleased when he did not pull away from her this time. "I will talk to her—probably meet with her too—in private, without her parents knowing. By the time she's through school she'll be more than ready to be the perfect Death Eater. Think of the advantage of such a witch, how much she could do for us—for him."

Rodolphus groaned in defeat, his arms snaking around his wife's waist as he looked down into her black eyes, full of cunning evil "And what if your family find out of your liaisons with the half-blood. Do you not fear disownment?"

Bellatrix laughed, her face mere inches from her husbands "Darling, no. They wouldn't." she shrugged "For starters, one disowned daughter is more than enough. Besides, do you really think a metamorphmagus is something my family would be able to resist? They would want to use her too."

"So you would let them?" Rodolphus asked.

"She is for The Dark Lord." Bellatrix wrinkled her nose "They would ruin her before she had the chance to serve him. I will only tell them of her if it gets to the point of them knowing or needing to know. I mean, I didn't know about her until Narcissa and I saw her in Diagon Alley yesterday, I'm sure they're just as ignorant to her. The girl did say that Mummy dearest tells her to not to morph in public, says people might take advantage." Bellatrix couldn't help but giggle at that "Well, I suppose Andy isn't wrong there."

"I have to admit . . . it seems like you've thought this through well." Rodolphus murmured, distracted by the beauty of the woman currently grinning up at him in her deliciously evil way. "So . . . You're going to write to her to start with?"

"Yes . . ." Bellatrix purred, lacing her fingers through his hair "Want to help?"

"Hmm . . . I can't say I approve of a half blood . . . but yes, I'll help." Rodolphus grinned as Bellatrix giggled in mischievous glee "But first, I think you need a break."

Bellatrix squealed in delight as Rodolphus lifted her onto the desk, kissing her neck as his desire for her took over. The dark witch smirked as she lay back on the desk, bringing her husband with her as thoughts of tempting little Nymphadora Tonks to the 'dark side' were temporarily forgotten in their heated passions.

Nymphadora Tonks sat innocently at the dining room table, pushing a pile of peas around her plate with her fork as she rested her head on her hand. She was bored, something that was not uncommon for dinner time at the Tonks household. You see, Nymphadora Tonks was what you would call a 'fussy eater'. Nymphadora didn't particularly see herself as 'fussy' with her food, she just knew that certain things (mostly vegetables) were 'nasty' and she didn't have much interest in eating them no matter how hard her mother tried.

"Dora, stop playing." Andromeda sighed, putting her glass down to look at the girl properly.

"I'm not playing." Dora pouted "I want to be playing, but you won't let me."

"Dora, come on love." Ted smiled at his daughter from the end of the table "Why don't you just eat a few peas and then you can come watch the telly with me."

"She needs to eat all of them." Andromeda said, holding back a look of annoyance. It was fair to say that Ted Tonks was clearly the 'soft touch' when it came to the two parents.

"Daddy said I can eat a few." Dora snapped in reply, picking up three peas. She inspected them for a moment before she wrinkled her nose in distaste, throwing them into her mouth and swallowing as if she had been forced to eat dung flavoured jelly beans. "One, two, three! Done. I want to watch The Flintstones."

Andromeda raised her hand to stop her daughter running from the room "No, Nymphadora."

"Daddy said—!"

"Yes, but I said you had to eat them all first, didn't I?" Andromeda raised an eyebrow at the young girl, watching her purple and blue hair suddenly beginning to tinge red "Don't get angry at me, you know the rules."

"I don't like them!" Dora screamed "You know I don't like them!"

"Don't shout at your mother, Dora." Ted tried to speak firmly, though he wished for nothing more than his daughter and wife to stop glaring at each other.

"No!" Dora snapped, her hair fully red now "She knows I don't like peas! She doesn't have to eat stuff she doesn't like!"

"I am your mother!" Andromeda yelled back as she lost her temper "As long as you live under my roof you do as I say!"

"Well then I'll leave!" Dora jutted her chin out, determination in her young voice.

"Eat your peas or go to bed now." Andromeda said simply.

"I hate you!" Dora yelled in reply.

"Nymphadora!" Ted yelled in his wife's defence "Don't talk to your mum like that! Apologise!"

"No!" Dora snapped, though when she looked to her mother she soon felt the hint of regret that letting such words slip out had caused. She didn't hate her mum . . . she hated peas and her mum made her eat peas . . . but she didn't hate her mum. She was nine years old, such silly remarks were bound to slip out. "Mum . . ."

"Go to your room, Nymphadora." Andromeda sighed, getting up from the table and drawing her wand to clear the plates.

"I—"

"Go to your room, Nymphadora." She gave her daughter a warning look, the little girl staring up at her from her seat for a few moments before she let out a huff of anger and stormed from the room. Both adults paused until they heard the slamming of the girls bedroom upstairs, Ted wincing at the sound as Andromeda shook her head and begun to clear their dinner.

"Sorry, Dromeda." Ted sighed "I didn't mean to . . ."

"It's fine." Dromeda assured him, watching the plates whiz past her to wash themselves up in the kitchen. "She'll take any excuse for an argument at the moment. She's lucky, she has it easy with us."

Ted smiled sadly, getting up and wrapping his arms around his wife, kissing her cheek. He knew she what she meant; if she had done anything like that with her own parents . . . well, from the few stories she had told him about the Black household he dreaded to think what a screaming match over peas would get a child. Ted sighed as he squeezed his wife into himself "Come on, me and you can watch the telly."

"Ted, you know that muggle box confuses me." Andromeda shook her head, furrowing her brows as she pulled away "I mean, you said it's like talking portrait—but they speak back to you—they can't see you. How in Merlin's name is that normal?"

"Dromeda," Ted chuckled, kissing his wife "you can read a book whilst I watch the 'muggle box'. Okay?"

After a few moments of hesitation Andromeda nodded, letting Ted lead her to the living room though she couldn't help but stare up the stairway as she passed. If there was one thing for certain it was that Nymphadora Tonks had definitely inherited some Black traits.

Nymphadora stormed over to her bed the moment she entered her room, flopping down face first as she let out a groan of annoyance. "It's not fair." She mumbled into the pillows. This wasn't the first time she had been sent to bed early and it most certainly wouldn't be the last. Though as she peered up to the window she realised it was the first time in a long time it had happened before it was even dark. The sun was barely beginning to set as under the tops of the trees lining the back of her garden, though to be honest she couldn't see much of her garden with the large barn owl sitting in her window.

Dora shot up, her eyes wide as she looked to the thing. Why was the owl in her window seal? She never got mail. Did the stupid bird think she was going to give it her left overs again, because it was sorely mistaken—that was not the Tonks owl . . . Dora slowly got off of the bed, tiptoeing over to the bird as if she was sure it would fly off at any moment.

"Hello . . ." Dora whispered, looking around her room before she stepped in front of the bird. "Do you have something for me?" She looked to it's leg, grinning as she noticed a small letter which she hesitantly untied. "Thanks." She giggled, watching the bird fly off into the night before she ran back to her bed to sit.

The girl bit her lip in her excitement, all anger at her mother suddenly forgotten as her hair shot to a bubble-gum pink. She carefully turned the letter over, her small fingers trailing over the seal in awe of the crest firmly pressed into the black wax. She wasn't used to seeing crests on the seals of letters, only seeing them coming from places such as the Ministry and once on a letter her mother had gotten at least two years ago. The 9-year-old bit her lip so hard in her nerves that she winced at the shot of pain that went through her before she shook her head, internally demanding herself to pull herself together as she ripped the envelope around the seal. She was unsure why but part of her did not want to break the intricate design in the wax. The parchment within was just as fine as the envelope itself, a matching crest on the bottom of the parchment sitting proudly bellow the letter which was beautifully written in emerald green ink. Dora couldn't help but grin as she read the letter.

Dear Dora,

It was lovely to meet you in Gringotts the other day, as I said it is a shame it has taken so long for us to meet. I hope my owl found you well, I am sorry that I had to instruct her to come straight back to me once she had ensured that you received the letter. I simply didn't want your Mummy to find out I had written to you—she may not like that you see—I will send her back tomorrow at around eight in the evening so you can write back to me in case you can't get to your parent's owl.

I believe I promised to tell you of your Aunt Narcissa? Well, she is mine and your mother's youngest sister. She is married, her husband is Lucius Malfoy and they have a little boy together called Draco. He's two, so you're much older than him (and much more fun, I'd assume). He's very boring, running around and clinging to his mother all of the time. Nothing like you, you're clearly very independent and certainly have no need for your mother, or father for that matter, to know everything you do and help you all of the time. That's one of the reasons I can trust you to keep our relationship a secret.

You will have to tell me the exact date of your birthday—and what presents you want of course! It can't be too large of course, or else your parents might question where you got it from. Tell me a few things that you want and I will see what I can do. Ten is an important birthday, double figures and all. Before you know it you will be at Hogwarts. Have you thought of that at all? What house do you think you'll be in? I was a Slytherin myself, as was your mother, your other aunt—all of your family on your mother's side in fact. Well, there was one who wasn't but he wasn't very nice, all the best people are Slytherin you see.

It's a shame that I can't see you, though perhaps if we continue to write together I can find a way to meet with you without your parents finding out. Any ideas?

I can't wait to read your reply,

Auntie Bella

Her hair was bright pink as she avidly read the letter over again. 'Auntie Bella' seemed brilliant to the little girl, asking for her ideas on when they could meet, talking to her about her Mummy's family (something her Mother would never do), offering to buy her presents. She was sure that was plural, would she get more than one? She held back a giggle of excitement as she went over to her desk to find out a piece of parchment and a pen (she had been temporarily banned from using a quil and ink until she learned how to prevent herself from spilling the pot over, her Dad had suggested the muggle alternative in the meantime). Nymphadora Tonks couldn't wait to talk to her Aunt again.

Hope you enjoyed! Drop me a review and let me know your thoughts if you have a second, I love to hear them.