Nymphadora Tonks had always been a difficult child. She wasn’t the type to throw tantrums and demand attention. She got enough attention just by being herself. She was the type of child who had a mind of her own. When her parents told her not to wander, she couldn’t understand. What would she learn by staying still? When they told her never to speak to strangers, she couldn’t understand that either. If she never spoke to anyone whom she didn’t know, she would never meet anyone new. And she very much wanted to meet new people and do new things. Even as a child, she was not the type to live a boring life.

By the time she was four, her curious nature made her almost impossible to control. But her parents loved her just the same. She was their daughter and her curious nature only made them more proud of her. They were already certain that she was extremely intelligent. They expected that she would go into Ravenclaw House, when it was time for her to start at Hogwarts. They had great faith that one day their daughter would do something wonderful. In the meantime, it took all of their time, patience, and ability simply to keep track of the girl.

Andromeda, however, was not deterred from spending some time with her daughter away from the house. Nymphadora was always harder to watch away from home, but that was no reason to keep the poor child cooped up all the time. She needed fresh air and exercise, like all children her age. Besides, if Nymphadora was left too long to her own devices she was liable to get bored and accidentally set the house on fire. It was always best to keep her entertained.

One particularly sunny morning, after Ted had gone to work, Andromeda found her young daughter outside in the rose bush. Unfortunately, she was not simply admiring the flowers. She was stomping them to death.

Andromeda sighed. She had worked on that flower bed for months. She went over to see what Nymphadora was up to.

“Honey, why are you destroying Mommy’s flower garden?�

Nymphadora looked up at her, with the big innocent eyes that all four year olds have. “I’m not destroying it,� she explained. “I’m trying to find the fairy. Daddy read me a story about a fairy that lived in the roses. She was very pretty and oh so nice. I just wanted to meet her. You’re not mad at me, are you Mommy?�

Andromeda smiled and pulled her daughter into her arms. “No, I’m not mad, Nympy. But I’m sorry to say, there’s no fairy living in my rose bushes. The closest you might get would be a garden gnome.�

“Oh.�

Nymphadora looked so devastated that her mother knew something had to be done. She might be a witch, but she couldn’t produce a fairy for her daughter. So the next best thing would be to distract her.

“Why don’t we go to the beach?� she suggested. “You could gather some more shells for your collection. It might be a little chilly to go in the water, but we can still have fun.�

Nymphadora’s eyes lit up. She loved the beach, especially this early in the season, when there was rarely ever anyone else there. She could run in the sand, build sand castles, collect her shells, and there was no one to complain that she was being too loud, or running too fast. Well, no one except her mother, and she usually let her have her fun.

When they reached the beach she was bright eyed and ready to go. She started running up the beach. Her mother quickly dropped the towels she had been carrying and chased after her.

“You can’t catch me,� she called.

Her mother just laughed and tried to keep up with her.

Of course, Nymphadora was right, her mother never did catch her. But she was able to keep her in sight, which had been the real goal. Finally, she fell to the ground in exhaustion, begging her daughter to stop.

Nymphadora giggled and trotted over to her mother. She wasn’t even out of breath.

“Now what, Mommy?�

“Now we should go spread out our towels,� her mother told her, as she forced herself back to her feet. “On the walk back you can search for shells.� She put particular emphasis on the word walk, as she definitely did not have the energy to chase her young daughter back up the beach.

Fortunately for Andromeda, Nymphadora did chose to walk. She stopped to run her hands through the sand. She picked up a few shells that she thought were pretty. She moved at a wonderfully slow pace, allowing her mother to fully catch her breath.

When they reached the towels, Andromeda spread them both out on the ground. She collapsed on one, her daughter sprawled out on the other, and laid her shells out to examine.

While Nymphadora was busy with her shells, Andromeda allowed herself a moment to rest. She closed her eyes, and felt the warm afternoon sun beating down on her. She liked to come to the beach alone, when she needed to think. She could lie in the sand for hours. She used to lie in the sand with her sisters when they were girls.

Before she realized how tired she was, Andromeda was asleep.

The shells did not keep young Nymphadora entertained for long—nothing ever did. She went to ask her mother to build a sand castle with her and discovered that she was snoring. Not wishing to interrupt her mother’s nap, she decided to walk down by the water. Maybe she could find more pretty shells to show her mother when she woke up.

She walked along the water’s edge. She was content to skip along. She liked to be moving.

Then she spotted something further up the beach. No, it wasn’t something, it was someone. A woman, judging by the long black hair flowing in the wind. As usual her curiosity took over leading Nymphadora towards the strange woman.

By the time she reached her, the woman had taken a seat on the sand and was allowing her bare feet to dangle in the water. She was studying something in her hand.

As Nymphadora moved closer, she felt even more drawn to the woman. She was clearly beautiful and she loved the way her hair shined in the sun. But there was something else about this woman that held her attention so thoroughly. Something familiar. But the small girl could not pinpoint what it was.

She walked over to the woman, who acknowledged her with a quizzical stare. “Are you alone?� she asked.

Nymphadora shook her tiny head. “I’m with my mommy. She fell asleep.�

The woman nodded, with a slight grin, as though she found it easy to believe the young girl could draw her mother into complete exhaustion.

“You’re very pretty,� the small girl said.

The woman smiled, a very genuine smile. “You are a very beautiful little girl, yourself.�

Boldly, the little girl sat down beside her. She looked at what the woman had been studying. It was a shell. The nicest shell the little girl had ever seen. It had a pinkish tint to it, and somehow it seemed to sparkle in the sunlight.

“That’s nice,� she told the woman, pointing to the shell.

“It is pretty on the outside,� the woman told her. Then she turned the shell over to show the girl a mass of mud and seaweed that had been lodged within the shell. “Not so pretty on the inside. That is a lesson you should learn. Outside beauty does not always reflect what is on the inside. Nor does superficial ugliness always represent something thoroughly bad. Sometimes something can seem good when it is evil, and evil when it is good. This is far more relevant with people than with objects, my dear.�

Being only four years old, Nymphadora did not understand what had just been said to her. But these were words that she would remember and reflect on for many years to come.

The older woman knew the young girl in front of her could not understand the complex lecture she had just given. It didn’t matter. She simply felt the need to say the words. Especially to this girl. She too felt an unexplained connection with the spunky child.

The woman leaned over to the water. She lowered the shell in and washed the mud away. Then she handed the shell to the confused child. “It is also important to remember that we can usually wash the bad stuff away.�

The little girl studied the clean shell. It now appeared to be perfect.

After a few moments of staring at the shell in awe, she handed back to the woman. After all, it was her treasure.

The woman shook her head. “You may keep it.�

The little girl’s eyes lit up. “Really? Thank you so much.�

The woman smiled. “You are very welcome, my dear.�

Before anymore could pass between the two they were interrupted by a frantic voice. “Nymphadora Tonks,� the little girl glanced up to see her mother rushing towards them, “I have told you time and time again not to wander on your own. I have told you not to talk to strangers. Why can’t you ever listen to me? You are very lucky that this lady was nice.�

Andromeda turned to thank the woman for entertaining her daughter. A look of shock crossed both of their faces. They had not been this close in years.

Andromeda said nothing. She took her daughter’s hand and began to lead her away. “We need to get home,� she said. “Your father will be home from work soon.�

The little girl looked back at the woman, as her mother pulled her away. She saw a sad look in her eyes. Nymphadora wanted to give her a hug, but her mother had a very tight grip on her arm.

Finally, the woman spoke. “You have a very beautiful daughter, Andromeda.�

Andromeda stopped short. She turned to face the woman again. It was obvious that she had not expected to be acknowledged.

“Thank you, Bella,� she said simply and then she continued to lead her daughter away.

*

Nymphadora spent the rest of the day asking her mother about the woman. But she received no answers. Her mother refused to discuss it at all.

In Andromeda’s mind, there was nothing she could say to her daughter at that point. She was so young. Much too young for her to explain about pureblood beliefs and the family she never knew she had. One day she would tell her daughter that Bella was her aunt, but it would be another day. A day when her daughter was much older.

*

That night Nymphadora laid awake long after her parents had tucked her in. She was still thinking about the mysterious Bella, whom she had meant earlier in the day. She wondered how her mother knew her. She wondered why she refused to talk about her. She hated unanswered questions.

She sat up in bed, clutching the perfect shell. She remembered everything the woman told her. She tried to make sense of the words, but she was simply too young to even attempt to understand the message.

She fell asleep, feeling very frustrated.

She had no idea that this was hardly the last night she would spend trying to understand those words. She also had no idea that she would not see Bella again, until she was an Auror, and Bella was an escaped Death Eater.

A/N:Bella probably seems OOC to most people in this fic. That is because I have an intense believe that she cannot be as bad as she seems. This is a private moment for Bella, no one is watching her, and she is free to act however she chooses without repercussions. I also believe that she was probably, at least somewhat, kinder before her years in Azkaban.