June, 1981

One frightfully cold night, when Nancy was about eight years old, she awakened feeling very thirsty. Slowly and steadily with her bare feet, she walked down the dark hallway, her kneazle following her silently. She stopped by the top of the stairs when she heard her parents in the living room downstairs, talking in low strange voices.

"Marcus, are you involved in something…wrong?" Kate asked her husband.

After a silent moment, he answered.

"Do you have something specific in mind?" He said, very calmly.

Her father was a man whom she admired and feared greatly. For the past few years, he has been gone for a long time and she never knew when he was going to appear. He was fierce. If he caught her listening, she'd be severely punished.

"There are people in the Ministry that think you're involved with… them." Nancy's eyes widened and she felt her heart beat faster as she heard it, though she didn't quite know why she knew it meant a terrifying thing.

"I see…" Nancy heard the slow and heavy sound of his feet across the room. "I must say I'm surprised. You were never one to believe in silly rumours."

"Not really, but…" After a pause, she gathered up the courage to ask. "What were you doing in Knockturn Alley, the day before the McKinnon were killed?" She said quietly.

He stood up and turned away from the fire. Nancy went down a few steps, peering between the railing bars. She saw him fully. Marcus was a tall man with powerful shoulders, a fierce dark face, and sharp eyes that seemed to capture all your movements like a hawk. Under the light of the fireplace, the white scar over his eyebrow glowed brighter than ever. At the moment his expression was distant and preoccupied.

"Are you suspecting me, Kate? What do you expect me to say?" Nancy always heard that harsh voice with apprehension.

"I just need to know you are not involved in what I'm afraid you might be."

"What are you really afraid of, my dear?" He maintained a composed tone.

"Marcus, I want to keep sharing my life with you, but I need to know you are a good man. I need to know you would never hurt anybody." She said with a quiver in her voice.

He sighed.

"…Kate, there are things I can't share with you. One day we will surpass all of this. But until then. I ask you to trust me–"

"They were here, Marcus. Here in this house, looking for you!" She interrupted him.

Nancy remembered that night her mother was talking about. Just two weeks ago, Nancy woke up when she heard footsteps outside her room, in the hallway. They were men's footsteps. The men who entered the house talked in low voices. At first, she was not scared. Her mother's acquaintances used to come and go from the house, especially during the dark of the night. But that one time was different. Nancy was on her bed and felt Prowler near her, his furry back bristling with anxiety, though he made no sound. He always knew when something was wrong, so she didn't dare to go out. And then she heard a deep voice from the other side of the door. She thought that they would come in into the room at any moment.

"Had your husband arrived yet?" A man asked.

"As you can see, he is not here. He is been missing for weeks." Her mother said.

"Really? Well, that is quite strange, he was seen at Knockturn Alley just two days ago."

"Then you are better informed than I am." She said, calmly.

The men stayed silent for a moment and then he said.

"Unfortunately, that is true." There was a brisk humour in his voice.

Nancy heard with relief that they were walking away from the front of her door.

"We will be back if there is a need. Tell your husband this: I hope we have our goals very clear." There was a brief silence and he continued with a playful tone. "When you see him, of course."

After that, appalling things happened, and it would take years for the mysteriousness of that night to be explained to Nancy. The war had broken out in its most fatal form and people were dying or disappearing. But at the time she didn't fully grasp the situation. Nancy absently tried to get a little closer to hear them better, but her foot slipped on the steps, making noise before she could hold it back. Her father heard and turned to the stairs at once.

"Who's there?" He shouted and Nancy nearly jumped out of her skin.

She tumbled down the stairs and he hurried over to her with heavy steps, but with perfect balance, like of a wild animal.

"Nancy! What the hell are you doing here?" He seized her wrist and twisted hard.

"I'm sorry!" she cried.

The girl twisted in pain but grimacing to prevent herself from crying out louder. The man bent over her, frowning like thunder and Nancy was reminded, as she always was when she saw him again, of how much he frightened her.

"Were you listening to us talking?" he said more quietly.

"No! I haven't heard anything." she muttered between clenched teeth to avoid crying.

"Marcus! That is enough! Release her this instant!" her mother demanded with a loud voice.

Kate was a bold woman despite her small stature. She did not fear her husband and made herself heard. He let her go and the little girl sank to the floor so her mother held her in a tight embrace. Her father looked down with a restrained fury and Nancy didn't dare meet his eyes.

"Come on, love. Let's go to your room." Kate said.

Her mother helped her to her feet and led her quickly up the stairs glaring at him as they left. Back to her room, Nancy relaxed a little and allowed herself to feel the pain in her wrist and the tears she was holding for so long escaped her eyes.

"I'm sorry darling. Show me where it hurts." She said with an apologetic voice.

She reached her hand out and her mother held it gently. Kate pointed her wand at the wound and said a healing spell. After a flash of white light, her wrist didn't hurt anymore. Nancy moved her arm gently to be sure.

"See? Doesn't hurt anymore, does it?" Her mother gently stroked her pulse, smiling weakly.

Nancy agreed silently. Kate put her on the bed, kissed her goodnight, and closed the door behind her. It took Nancy some time to process what had happened and after a few lonely sobs, just in the company of Prowler licking her face, she fell asleep.

During the confusion and bewilderment of the past events, the next morning, Kate grabbed their things, and having nowhere to go she took her daughter on a trip to the beach. Trips were rather rare. The last trip they ever made as a family was to a farm in Cornwall that was also a sanctuary for Abraxans and Porlocks. It was one of her favourite memories. Her father didn't join them this time to the beach and Nancy didn't give a deep thought about it. Much to her mother's relief. Nancy didn't ask many questions. She was a quiet child and didn't give much trouble, so essentially different from how Kate was as a child. She sat on the sheet she brought and started counting the money while Nancy played with her kneazle a few meters away.

Nancy's kneazle, Prowler, was her best friend. Her father didn't want to let her have one at first. The first pet she had was a niffler and it had made a lot of mess at home, breaking the Christmas tree, trying to steal its golden globes. After that accident he made her put the animal in a cage and give it away. Months later she made friends with a blue-speckled bird that lived in the trees of the property. Her father had said he would no longer tolerate pets. But a bird is free to live wherever it pleases and Nancy couldn't help but become attached to the little animal she fed and visited every day. When the bird got used to her presence, it let her caress it and it would always land on her hand when she arrived. Until one night, a loud sound of wailing broke out from outside that woke Nancy up. The sound was frightening. The wailing grew wilder and wilder, she covered her ears with her hands, but she couldn't sleep. She didn't go to get her parents. Her father had long discouraged the habit of waking them up when she had a nightmare. She had a desperate thought "How could mum and dad not wake up to this horrible sound?" It felt like torture that only she could hear it and she tried with all her might to muffle that sound for almost an hour that looked like an eternity. Until it finally stopped. The next morning Nancy was after the bird again. She didn't find it in its usual place, so she walked a little further, whistling several times to call for it, but it did not appear. Until she found among the bushes the motionless bird lying on the ground. There was a gash of red on its neck. She touched it lightly. Its feathered body which was always light and soft was hard as a rock. Her father appeared behind her.

"Don't touch that, it's dead." He spoke.

That day he taught her how to make a proper burial for the pet, which was buried in the yard. She couldn't understand. The bird was perfectly fine and healthy. When she asked, her father said it bluntly.

"It was a Jobberknoll. Someone must have killed it to make a prank."

"That so mean! Why would anyone do that?" her mother asked.

"When a Jobberknoll dies, it lets out a horrific scream. It's said that's unbearable. Some idiot must have wanted to find it out." his voice was cold.

Nancy clutched the tip of her pyjamas. So that horrible sound during the night was the bird. She stood there shivering from head to foot. If she had known before. If she had tried to learn about the bird. She would have left the room and run into the woods and maybe she could have saved it. Her stomach twisted with rage and sorrow, she bit her lower lip hard to the point it hurts, but she couldn't contain her tears.

After that event, Nancy developed insomnia and was unable to sleep. She spent many sleepless nights expecting to hear that horrible sound again. Her mother realized the problem when she started to catch the girl walking around the house late at night wrapped in a blanket. Because of that, her mother nicknamed her "little ghost". She still needs to use sleep potions to sleep and that is why her mother taught her how to do it herself. Less than a year after this episode, Nancy found a kneazle kitten. She knew that her father would not let her raise the animal, but she did not want to leave it outside, fearing that what happened to the Jobberknoll would happen to it. Then she hid the kitten in her room, with a card box full of sand as a litter under her bed and a small bowl with milk and a few pieces of bread in it. Her mother soon found out, but pretended she didn't know anything. She was amused to see her cute daughter fumbling trying to hide the animal. When Nancy's father finally found out, two weeks had passed. Under his wife's amused gaze and his daughter's pleas, he decided to let the creature stay.

As Kate feared, they didn't have much more money left, the sales in the shop weren't going well, and soon they would have to close the doors as many shops in Diagon Alley these times. Normally Nancy had to stay with her mother all day at the shop and she had a lot of fun watching the animals that came and went. She loved to feed them, but she couldn't get close to the most dangerous ones, like the old fire crab that's been there for years. Kate refused to accept any money from her father. There was not much choice, she had to accept the job in the Ministry. She received not long ago a job offer to work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She had friends there and under normal circumstances, she would have gladly accepted the offer. After Millicent Bagnold rose to the Minister position last year, she had hope things were going to end. But the number of dead and missing has only increased in recent weeks. She sighed at her own resolution and walked towards Nancy twisting her hands together nervously.

"It's getting late, Nancy. We have to go now. Come here."

She stretched her hand for the girl to grab it. If she could, she would carry her daughter in her arms. But she couldn't do it anymore, the girl was too big for her. She hoped this was a sign that her daughter would grow up more than she did since her husband was a tall man. The sky was darkening with large clouds threatening to rain. They picked up their things and just stood there on the sidewalk. Her mother stuck out her wand hand.

"What are you doing, mum?"

"Waiting for the bus, my darling." her voice was somehow watery, but the girl didn't notice.

Nancy thought it was strange, to wait for something in the middle of nowhere. But she didn't know what a bus looked like since she never took one in her life. It didn't take long for a huge purple metal cabin to materialize out of nowhere in front of them. Gold lettering over the windshield spelled The Knight Bus. So, that was a bus, Nancy thought. It was not that great, much smaller than a train wagon. A man in a purple uniform came out and spoke in a rough, good-natured way, pronouncing his words in a queer broad fashion.

"Welcum' to tha Knight Bus–"

"Hello, Haworth. Long time!" Her mother interrupted.

"I see tha's got back," he said. "An' tha's browt 'un young with thee."

"Yes, she is my daughter."

The conductor bent over to greet the little girl.

"How's tha Missus?"

Her mother winked at her, smiling as to say 'Everything is fine' and Nancy nodded to the man. She got in first while her mother paid the man and she found herself a seat on a comfortably cushioned corner near the window.

"I will drop you at your grandfather's house." Her mother said smiling. "Oh! You will like it there. The house is six hundred years old and it's on the edge of a moor, and there are nearly a hundred rooms in it. And there's pictures and fine old furniture and things that have been there for ages. There is a beautiful garden and an exquisite library!"

"Are you not coming?"

"I have to take care of some unfinished business, but I will be there as soon as I can. I promise!"

She liked the idea to see her grandfather's house. Nancy hadn't seen him in a long time. She sat and looked out of the window, but the bus moved so fast that she couldn't see anything of the road, just a big blur and she had to hold on to the chair to keep from slipping, it was an uncomfortable ride. When they arrived, Nancy kissed her mother goodbye and groaned in spirit as she turned about and shuffled gently down the bus toward the enormous house. There was a great distance between the road and the house and it was starting to rain. She looked back and saw the bus disappear in thin air. She made a run to the house, so as not to get wet by the pouring rain. The entrance door was a huge one made of massive, curiously shaped panels of oak studded with big iron nails and bound with great iron bars. There was a big ring around the bronze doorknocker that seemed like a goblin's face. She knocked three times. After a moment, a small creature with batlike ears, large eyes, and long fingers and feet as she never saw before, opened the door for her. He looked tired and troubled, but when he saw her, his expression changed to delight.

"Hello. My mother sent me, I'm Nancy." the little girl said, drawing herself up stiffly.

"Yes, yes. We were expecting Miss. The name is Hatcher, at your service." He bowed "I ought to take the Miss to your room."

She was not at all a timid child and she was not exactly frightened, but she felt that there was no knowing what might happen in a house with a hundred rooms. The door opened into an enormous hall, which was so dimly lit that the faces in the portraits on the walls seemed unwelcoming as they followed her with their eyes and the figures in the suits of armour made Nancy feel that she did not want to look at them. As she stood on the stone floor, she looked like a very small, odd little black figure, and she felt as small and lost and odd as she looked. And then Nancy was led up a broad staircase and down a long corridor and up a short flight of steps and through another corridor and another, until the last door and she found herself in a beautiful room. There were rich colours in the rugs and hangings and pictures and books on the walls which made it look glowing and comfortable even in spite of the grey sky and falling rain.

"Excuse me. Where is my grandfather?" she asked.

"Oh. Miss won't see Master for a while. Master went to London in the morning."

She walked around the room. The fire was lit and she found supper on a table.

"Thank you, Hatcher." She properly said, remembering her mother's teaching.

What she did not expect was a face full of horror of Hatcher. She never met a house elf and she did not know they were obsequious and servile and did not presume to talk to their masters as if they were their equals. They were commanded to do things, not asked. It was not the custom to say "please" and "thank you".

"T-thank you!" he wailed.

He walked down the hall looking very offended. Nancy tried to run after him to apologise, but he was too far already, but she stopped by the door and said out loud anyway.

"I'm sorry!"

After her meal, she put her pyjamas on and climbed on the bed. It was warm and cosy, much bigger than her old bed. She jumped a few times for fun and called Prowler over to sleep with her. They cuddled together and she fell asleep effortlessly.

When she opened her eyes the next morning was because Prowler climbed on her to tell it was daytime and they heard someone outside. She decided to get up and even though not fully dressed Nancy got out running in presently, her face sparkling with the delight of seeing her grandfather. But she turned abashed at finding herself in the unexpected presence of a stranger instead. She halted confusedly inside the door. A tall woman came briskly forward as Nancy opened the door. It was her grandfather's new wife, Ophelia. She was a thin, angular woman with sharp blue eyes, and thin lips, distorted in a constant expression of disapproval. Her dark hair showed some grey streaks and was twisted up in a hard knot. Mrs. Ophelia was relieved to hear from her husband that she needn't "look after" Nancy too much, for she was a quiet child. She felt children a tiresome charge and had indeed the intention of seeing as little of her as she could. She stopped short when her eyes fell on the odd-looking little creature with those big dark eyes, skinny limbs, and mess of a curly hair.

"Well, there you are!" The woman said unceremoniously "Come here, child, and let me have a look at you. Merlin's beard! Doesn't your mother take care of your hair?"

Nancy stared at her and did not care to answer. She was not purposely being insolent, she just did not understand what "take care" implied, since her mother touched her hair little as possible.

"Humph," the woman muttered, staring at that queer, unresponsive little face. She did not say any more for a few moments and then she began again. "What a pity she is such a dark, homely little thing." She said to herself.

Nancy had never thought much about her looks, but she wondered if she was as unattractive as she said. She felt uncomfortable. But Mrs. Ophelia was not in the least disturbed by her and her thoughts. She was the kind of woman who would "stand no nonsense from young ones." Her husband warned her that his granddaughter would be living with them, but she wasn't comfortable with the idea.

"My daughter's husband is causing some troubles, nothing surprising I must say." Ernest had said. He never supported his daughter's decision into marrying a penniless half-blood. "But I can't have my granddaughter living in that kind of environment. The child is to be brought here."

Mrs. Ophelia had never seen a child who stood so still without doing anything. At last, she got tired of watching her and spoke in a brisk, hard voice.

"Go back, dress yourself. And as you are staying here for the time being behave as a good girl should."

Nancy said nothing at all, and Mrs. Ophelia looked rather discomfited by her apparent indifference, but, after taking a breath, she went on.

"Don't expect to see your grandfather every day, because you won't," said Ophelia. "And you mustn't expect that there will be other people to pay attention to you. You'll have to play about and look after yourself. You'll be told what rooms you can go into and what rooms you're to keep out of. There is the library and gardens enough. But when you're in the house don't go wandering and poking about."

Nancy did not ask where the library was, because she was suddenly inspired by a new idea. She made up her mind to go and find it herself. She was not troubled about Mrs. Ophelia since she seemed always to be in her comfortable sitting-room downstairs. In this queer place she scarcely ever saw anyone at all. In fact, for quite some time, there was no one to see but Hatcher. Until a day when a boy came running from across the hallway. They almost bumped into each other. He looked startled when he saw Nancy.

"Who are you?" He demanded in an imperious voice.

"I am Nancy. Nancy Gould."

"Gould? Like Grandpa Ernest?" the boy gasped.

"He is my grandfather."

"Really? That means we are cousins, then. I am Damian Silverton." The boy had a sharp, delicate face the colour of ivory and grey eyes. He had also a lot of hair that tumbled over his forehead in dark and heavy locks. He stuck his hand for her to shake it. What she did, a bit suspicious.

"No one ever told me I had a cousin. How old are you?" he asked.

"I'm eight."

"That means I'm older than you. And in the next year, I'm going to Hogwarts."