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CHAPTER 45

The cottage should be empty is the first thing that cross my mind when I end up in the living room of Lestrange Cottage and see that a fire is burning in the hearth. For a moment I debate staying and speaking with my mother about…I don't really know what I'd talk about. Part of me just wants to see her, but a larger part of me wants to speak with no one at all right now. Before I can make a move to leave, I hear a quiet, "Charlotte?" come from behind me.

Ever so slowly I turn around to see who's here and come face-to-face with none other than my father. A strong sort of anger grabs me. "Rodolphus," I say flatly.

"What are you doing here? Bellatrix isn't around."

I glower at him. This man—my father—killed Helena Collins. He killed her because he thought she was me and wanted to save her, but that doesn't excuse the fact that he killed a child. Especially because he didn't confirm that Helena actually was in any danger before taking her life and destroying her family

"Is something wrong? I thought you were at Hogwarts," he says. I continue simply glaring at him. "You…weren't at Hogwarts, were you?"

"No. I wasn't."

"Someone has obviously done something to you," he says kindly. "As you are important to the Dark Lord and we Death Eaters are supposed to make your life easier in any way that we can, you may speak to me if you wish, and I will listen."

My hand twitches, desperately wanting to attack him, to make him hurt for what he did to Christopher and his family, but he's my father and he spent years in Azkaban and he tried giving Zoe a chance to run and he was nice to me after Voldemort beat me so I can't bring myself to do anything more than speak rudely to him. "Would you like to know where I was?"

He glances around almost uncomfortably. "If you wish to tell me."

"I was with a family that I believe you know," I say harshly. "A family to which you are related—the Collins family." He shifts from one foot to another. "Yes, I thought you might recognize the name."

"Listen, Charlotte—"

"You killed her! You killed their daughter! And for what? Because you thought she would have to do something terrible! How could you? She had so much life left! And you took that from her! You took that from her family!"

"Don't think I'm oblivious to how difficult it is to lose a child—"

"Then why would you put them through that type of hell?"

"Because it was better than the alternative," he says calmly.

"But you were wrong, Rodolphus!" I don't lower my voice, despite the fact that he is still in his normal tone. "She was never the one who would bear the Dark Lord's child!"

"Yes, I realize that. I was mistaken. But I believed I was helping." Why is he so calm?

"So you're saying that you would rather have Aurelia dead than have her give the Dark Lord a child?"

He pauses. When he speaks again, his voice is almost a whisper. "I would rather see my daughter six feet in the ground before I would ever wish to see her experience a torment so awful as bearing the Dark Lord's child." He sighs sadly. "I thought I was saving her. Helena did not deserve that."

"No one deserves it," I say. "But she also didn't deserve to die either."

He dips his head in acknowledgment of my statement. "It was supposed to be my daughter, you know. The Dark Lord originally chose Aurelia."

"How—"

"I was sneaking around the manor and overheard Lucius and Narcissa talking." He sits down. "It was supposed to be her, but I wouldn't have wanted that for her." He looks away from me. "You never answered my question. Why are you here?"

"I had to get away," I say. "I couldn't stay there…not after…"

"Not after what?"

"Not after I learned what happened to Helena and how it should have been me who died, not her," I say, going over and sitting in the chair opposite the sofa where he is. I meet his eye. "Would you have killed Aurelia to save her?"

Tears spring up in his eyes and looks at me seriously—so seriously that I debate just disappearing to get away from his gaze. "Do you honestly believe I would have been able to bring any harm onto my daughter?" He shakes his head. "I could never have killed her." He swallows, then focuses back on me, something different in his eye. "I could never have done anything to harm her or those she cares about. No matter what the cost."

Like he tried doing with Zoe. "Even if that meant you would die?"

"Even if I was Cruciated to my breaking point like the Longbottoms," he says. "I would do anything for her."

"You would help her escape?" He nods, not looking at me now, and I take this brief time to study him, the pain etched on his face, the tired wrinkles around his eyes. I don't know how to tell him, but I want to. "If you had known that it was me and not Helena, would you have killed me?"

He glances at me but refuses to hold my stare. "Would you choose to face this if given any other choice?"

"I question it sometimes. In fact, I tried taking my own life when I was younger. It didn't work, obviously."

He clears his throat and meets my eyes. "Why, of all places, did you come here?"

"I enjoy being here." It's only a partial lie.

"Do you usually come here when you're upset?"

"No. This is the first time. It just…felt right. Maybe because I thought I'd be alone, maybe because I have good memories of when—of when Bellatrix brought me here. Not many places hold good memories for me anymore."

His smile is sad but delightful as he looks around the room. "There is something reassuring about this place, isn't there?" His eyes meet mine again. "How many times have you been here?"

"Twice," I say without thinking. In that moment I realize my mistake.

"Twice?"

"My birthday this year, when you arrived with your brother and got into that fight with Bellatrix," I say, "and…and Christmas…last year."

Silence. That's all there is. He's frozen, and I can almost see the wheels turning in his mind as he begins to piece the puzzle together with the hints I've dropped since I first met him. "Your birthday? It was your birthday when Bellatrix and I fought?" I nod, and his eyes narrow. "And you came here for Christmas last year?" I nod again. "Why?"

"Bellatrix—she wanted to spend time with me," I say softly.

He nods. "How old were you when you were put in the orphanage?"

"I was almost a year old. I stayed there until I was ten, when I learned of my duty and of my powers as a witch. That's when I went on the run. But I didn't learn the full truth about myself until this time two years ago, at Malfoy Manor. It was my first Christmas when I wasn't hiding in some random place where I felt somewhat safe. But it didn't turn out the way I had hoped, sort of like this Christmas."

He leans forward and whispers, "What happened?"

"All of the Death Eaters were out of Azkaban, though I'm…sure you're aware of that. None of us ever thought…we didn't have a clue…it all just happened so quickly…"

Rodolphus leans forward, closer to me. "Charlotte, what happened?"

"We were sitting around the table, waiting for Bellatrix to arrive. Narcissa was trying to help me find out who my family was. I had a pocket watch from a man who took care of me for a while. He…he was my great-uncle. The family crest was…was pretty beaten and worn…" My voice cracks, starts to fail me. "But Narcissa was still able to read it. Bellatrix was shouting at me. I was dating Draco at the time and had not told him…about my duty. She…she was shouting at me…threatening me. Narcissa's voice kept butting into my shouting match with Bellatrix…" I force myself to continue looking at him. "She was about to Cruciate me—Bellatrix, I mean, not Narcissa. Narcissa was able to calm her…sort of. She was able to stop her by screaming loud enough to distract the two of us…that's when the truth came out…"

"What truth?" he breathes.

"The truth that…I'm…I'm not really Charlotte Rodgers." I'm sure by this point he knows what the truth actually is but just wants to hear it, to have it confirmed. "I wanted to tell. I did. I truly did. But the Dark Lord forbade it."

"What truth?" he asks, slightly louder this time.

"Don't be upset," I preface. "We had no choice. We had no choice. I wanted…so badly…I wanted to tell…"

"I won't be upset. Just tell me what happened."

"I…" Tears burn my eyes, and it takes all my willpower not to let them flow down my cheeks. For several months now, all I have wanted was to tell my father who I am. Now here I sit with a perfect opportunity, and I'm terrified. How will he react?

There's only one way to know, I suppose.

"I'm her," I say. "I'm Aurelia Celaeno. I'm yours and Bellatrix's daughter. It's me."

He rubs his hand across his mouth, staring at me blankly, and my heart pounds roughly in my chest. Then he smiles. "I know."

"You…you know?"

"I suspected. You look like her. Like Bellatrix." He reaches over and takes my hand. "I've known for a while—I just…didn't want to believe it. After everything, my daughter—my daughter is still stuck in her duty to the Dark Lord. I really didn't want to believe you were her."

"But you suspected? How long have you suspected?"

"Since the meeting at the manor. It looked like you were holding Bellatrix's hand under the table when the snake ate that woman. Then you were taken, and she was frantic when she and the Dark Lord stormed into the room to see what had happened. And she…was concerned about you when she returned with you. I suspected that you weren't just some random witch. I didn't want to believe it. Rabastan—Rabastan will be overjoyed. For months he's been trying to get proof to make believe." His smile wavers. "Aurelia. My baby girl." Tears make his eyes glisten, but he doesn't let them fall. "I didn't want it to be you. I wanted you to be safe."

"So…did you…did you suspect that I was your daughter when—when you tried giving Zoe the change to escape?"

He clears his throat. "I had an idea that it was you."

"You wanted to save me from losing her."

He can't look at me. Something akin to guilt on his face. "Yes."

I get up from where I'm sitting and take a spot beside him. "You didn't care that she was a Muggle-born?"

"If there was a chance you were my daughter and you loved her…" He shakes his head. "You mean more to me than my service to the Dark Lord. I didn't want you to lose her. I wanted you to be happy."

My father is willing to turn against Voldemort for me. For my happiness. That's more than Bellatrix could ever do. What if I hadn't been Aurelia? "Did you suspect it when you found Bellatrix and me here last month?"

"Yes." He clears his throat. "But I couldn't let myself believe it. Rabastan—he was so angry with me when we left. He didn't understand how I could possibly be so obtuse. He said it was obvious—that you are Aurelia. But I couldn't let myself believe that you—because what if you actually weren't her, and I had spent so much time hoping?"

I throw my arms around him. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before."

He holds me tightly, almost as if he fears I might vanish, as if I'm not real, like this is all some dream he's afraid losing. "I'm sure the Dark Lord forbade it. Upon pain of death."

"The pain of your death. He threatened to make me watch as Mum tortured and killed you."

He pulls away from me but keeps my hands in his. "'Mum'? That's what you call Bella?"

"Yes, when we're not fighting. She's my mum, after all. Just like you're my dad."

He laughs—actually laughs. It's deep and joyous and infectious, bringing a smile to my face. "I'm your dad."

"I should have told you so much earlier."

"I wouldn't have wanted you to risk yourself like that. Rabastan will be overjoyed to have the truth finally confirmed. He only tried to help Miss Accrington escape because he believed you were Aurelia."

Both of them knew for so long—or suspected for so long—and were willing to risk their own lives to give Zoe a chance to escape. My father wanted to save her, while my mother held me back to watch her be tortured. How much more would he have done to help me had he known for sure who I am? Why did it have to be Bellatrix who learned who I am? Why couldn't it have been Rodolphus who learned that Christmas? Everything would have been so different now. He would've helped me escape a long, long time ago. I'm sure of it.

But you love Bellatrix. I do, but that doesn't mean she hasn't been cruel to me. I don't think Rodolphus ever would have ever hurt me, physically or emotionally, the way she has.

"I've missed you, Aurelia." He pulls me into his arms again, his hand cradling the back of my head as if I'm still a child. "I love you."

"I love you too, Dad." At least I think I do. I don't see why I wouldn't.

A painful sound escapes him, followed by a whispered, "I never thought I'd live to hear you call me 'Dad.' I thought it was a lost dream." He pulls away from me again and puts his hands on either side of my face, just observing me for a moment. "Bella has known for a while, hasn't she? Since that Christmas?"

"Yes."

His eyes dart away from me for a moment then come back. "I know you owe me nothing. I haven't been a father that I need to be—"

"But that's only because you couldn't be," I interject. "I have no doubts that you would be a great father if given the opportunity. I mean—you tried to help…" I don't want to talk about Zoe anymore, so I choke down the words.

He smiles half-heartedly, then removes his hands from my face. "I hope I can be what you need me to be. But I need you to help me with something."

"How can I possibly help you?"

"Your mother will do all that she can to serve the Dark Lord," he says quietly. "That means she'll die for him. You can't let her die for him, Aurelia. I don't care what you must do, but I need you to get her away from him. Take her somewhere. The two of you can live out your lives together, away from the Dark Lord. It does not matter if I am unable to live with you and be a family. You must save her."

"How?"

"Well, first, I need to find a way to save you from the Dark Lord."

My heartbeat quickens. "Do you have any idea how to do that?"

There is a long pause. "I will begin working on it." He takes my hand in his. "He…he abuses you, doesn't he? I've seen the aftermath. Does he…do that often?" His voice carries such a pain that I want to cry. But I force myself not to.

"Not…not every time. Just…when I put up too much of a fight," I struggle to say. "But I can't fight him anymore without risking everyone I care about. So I don't."

Rodolphus suppresses a loud sob, fresh tears trickling down his face. "Aurelia…" He wipes his tears away. We stay quiet for a few minutes before he suddenly asks, "How do you handle it? How do you live with this?"

Should I tell him? Why the hell not, right? I mean, I've told him what I was strictly forbidden to tell him. Why not tell him this as well? "Severus helps me."

My father lifts up my chin so he can look into my face. "Snape?"

"Occlumency?"

"I taught your mother," he says. "Who taught you?"

"Severus," I say. I pull our hands into my lap.

"How does he help you?"

"Well, he just…doesn't let me be alone when I become self-destructive. He lets me skip classes when I feel I can't go, particularly after I return from Malfoy Manor. He lets me hide in his office sometimes." Rodolphus does not need to know that I have slept with Severus Snape. There are some things I believe I will take to my grave without ever telling a soul. Well, there are some things I'll take to my grave without ever telling my parents.

"Does he know who you are?"

"He's known since I first found out—not that I wanted to tell him. I more or less stormed into his office accusing him of knowing and keeping it from me. He didn't know until that moment."

"Thank him for me, will you?"

"Yes."

Another short moment of silence passes before he asks, "Would you like something to eat or drink?"

"Butterbeer would be nice."

He smiles and waves his wand, and two bottles fly into the room. He opens both of them and hands me one, then raises his bottle into the air. "To second chances."

I tap my bottle against his. We drink our butterbeer together in Lestrange Cottage, in front of the fire. If only I could have experienced a life with him and Bellatrix in this place. I regret that we lost that opportunity.

After we both finish (he finished minutes before me but waited patiently), he takes our bottles, stands, and places them on the mantle. "What's going on in my daughter's life?" he asks, flashing his charming smile at me as he sits back down.

"Like what?"

"Who's important to you? Do you have many friends? Is there a boy or girl in your life? How are your classes? Have the Carrows been treating you right?"

"Speaking of the Carrows," I say. "Are you the one who had them interrogating me?"

"They're what?" Then he starts laughing as if understanding what's going on. "Oh, I believe that was Rabastan. He wanted to prove who you are. He must have had them begin questioning you on my behalf, to find out if you were Aurelia or not. I'll have him call them off."

"They've already stopped. Apparently they were punished because I let slip to Bellatrix that they were interrogating me. Was he also having them watch me?"

He glances away. "Yes, I believe so. He…knows a great deal about your time at Hogwarts, your friends and how you were shutting them out of your lives." He clears his throat. "He…said he sent you something to warn you from getting too close to those friends, trying to protect you from losing them like you did Miss Accrington."

A cold hand closes around my heart. "The sketchbook?" I whisper.

My father frowns at me. "I told him not to. I told him it would only scare you. And what if you weren't Aurelia? He said he had to help you even if you weren't her, even if that meant scaring you and hurting you with the memory of Miss Accrington. He couldn't—he said he couldn't bear another girl Aurelia's age going through that much pain again."

I nod at him, trying to accept what he's just told me. "I'm upset with him, I guess, but I think it makes sense what he was trying to do. Even if he went about it in completely the wrong way."

This seems to please him. "I believe I had a few more questions though, other than just the one about the Carrows."

I smile. "As for who is important in my life…don't hate me for this—"

"I could never hate you," he quickly says.

"Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House. She's helped me more than I can ever really explain. Severus is a great friend to me, as are Christopher Collins and the Greengrass sisters and some other second years. Christopher was like a brother to me."

"'Was'?"

"After he learned that I was your daughter—I was trying to explain to his parents why you killed Helena, trying to give them closure—he overheard and didn't take it well. I don't know if he'll forgive me."

"I'm sure he will."

I try to smile bravely. "I hope so. And there's been no…special person in my life since Zoe."

"I'm so sorry. I wish I could tell—"

"Don't," I say, not unkindly.

"Were you happy with her?"

I nod. "Extremely. But she was Muggle-born, so I don't—"

"I don't care about her blood status."

"Really?" I ask skeptically.

"After having lost you for seventeen years, if something makes you happy, I will not fight against it. Ever."

"It's kind of a moot point now, I'm afraid. She's gone." I lean against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

My mind goes back to his request. Is it possible that I could save my mother from the Dark Lord? Is it possible to escape from my duty, to live somewhere far away as a broken family with my mother? The idea sends this odd jolt of giddiness through me, even though I know the chances are extremely small. I also know that I can't leave Hogwarts right now because I don't want to leave behind Severus or McGonagall, or the second years, or Astoria and Daphne.

But Rodolphus needs me to save Bellatrix. That's the one thing he has asked of me. Perhaps I won't have to stay gone forever. Perhaps I can return after Voldemort has been killed, as I firmly believe he will die. If I can keep my mother away long enough for Harry to arrive and end the Dark Lord's reign, we can return. She might even learn to love Rodolphus if Voldemort is no longer in the picture. We can be a family.

I can have a true family.

But what about Severus? McGonagall? Daphne? I don't want to leave them completely. Perhaps Bellatrix would allow me to continue seeing Daphne and Astoria, possibly Severus despite how much she dislikes him. But I'd never be able to see McGonagall, and I doubt my mother would let me see the Collins family.

Something needs to be done to save Mum, though. This is essential for Rodolphus. He doesn't want the love of his life dying for a man who caused his fifteen-year imprisonment in Azkaban and my "death." I see Rodolphus's issue with continuing to serve Voldemort.

"I assume you will be heading back soon?" my father asks quietly without looking at me.

"I…not really."

He looks over at me and smiles. "You are more than welcome to stay here if you'd like."

"I'd like that very much."