It takes any man to be a father, but it takes someone special to be a dad -- TBD

I had no idea how to even prepare myself for this.  I had a son that I did not even know was born.  I went to Iggy; I had no idea if he would even want to see me or what was even going through his own mind.  Not when I could not even begin to figure out what was going through my own head.  I was at the orphanage that he had lived his whole life in.  I would have had him come home with Lyn, but that would have been too much for him, I was sure.  I knocked lightly on the door to his room that the ladies told me was his.

"Nobody's home!" I barked at the door in a feigned sing-song voice. I'd spent enough time coloring with the younger kids. There was no way they were making me do more of anything with them. Was it so much to ask for some peace and quiet? If it were up to me, I'd just sit and read more from this Muggle author, some Poe character. His macabre style struck a chord with me, but maybe that was just the angsty teenager in me.

There was a second small knock. I huffed and set me book down, open-faced, hoping that the spine didn't crack. I walked over to the door and opened it slowly. It wasn't the typical case worker; some old man wearing typical 90's Muggle fashion, shabby grunge, stood at the door. To be honest, he looked greasy and dirty.

"Who are you?" I asked shortly. Even though I'd only seen him for a few seconds at this point, there was something strangely familiar about him.

Well, I was not sure what I expected, but normal typical teenage behavior did not surprise me in the least.  I could barely handle Lyn, how was I going to handle a kid I did not even know?  May as well plunge right on in.

"Hi," I said, feeling horribly awkward.  "Can I come in and talk?  My name's Regulus..." I trailed off; I really did not want to have any conversation with me standing in the hallway.  

A cursory glance behind him, I took in what I saw:  A book laying face-down and quite a few others on a shelf.  At least I would have something to talk to him about if all else failed.

Regulus: That was definitely not a Muggle name. I had no idea what this man was doing here, and I wasn't sure that I liked how he was eyeing me and the stuff in my room. He clearly knew something about me that I didn't know about him. For whatever reason, though, I didn't want to run; he seemed welcoming enough. And yet, I didn't want him to know that I was connecting him to the Wizarding world.

"Regulus?" I scoffed, opening the door wide and extending my arm in a gesture for him to enter. "That's a stupid name. But anyways, you better be quick. My roommate will be back soon."

I chuckled at his response to my name.  "Thanks," I said to him for allowing me into his bedroom.  I did realize that there was more than one bed that I had not seen upon first glance.

"And I have to agree, but there's no way for me to change it after all these years," I attempted making a joke, but knew I failed at it.  I ran my hand through my hair.  Where to even begin?  "You - erm - know my daughter.  Madelyn.  From school."  

I was an English professor at a college.  I should really be able to speak in full sentences.  I underestimated how nerve-wracking it would be to speak to Iggy.  He did look like Elle which put a small smile on my face.

"Oh...," I said, intentionally trailing off. I felt myself cock an eyebrow quizzically. Clearly, there wasn't any hiding the fact that I was a wizard from this man. But I didn't want to give this absolute stranger anything more to go on because from the way he was talking to me, he already knew everything about me that there was to know.

I stepped backward and, without looking, sat down on the bed. The hard spine of the book sank beneath my weight, and I knew that I'd cracked the spine. Inwardly, I cursed the man staring at me; if it hadn't been for him, I wouldn't have had to put the book down in the first place. And the spine would still be intact.

"You can have a seat if you'd like," I said, looking at the chair sitting by the shared desk.

I sat down, smiling a thanks.  I kind of hoped he would end up talking a little bit about Lyn since they were friends.  At least more a recognition than an 'oh'.  I wrung my hands together a little bit as I spoke.  "Iggy," I said to him quietly, looking at him, "I knew your mum... a long time ago."  I knew that might not go over well.  I plunged onward, though.  

"Dumbledore - the man you and my daughter went to see over Christmas holiday - came to me after you saw him," I explained, trying to keep the sourness out of my voice.  I was still upset with Lyn for lying and not telling me or her mother that she endangered herself by going to England.  "He mentioned R.A.B. to me..."

I stopped because I wanted to let that sink in.  I was sure that he would get furious at Dumbledore for betraying his trust -- but better Dumbledore than my daughter.  She had not told me anything about Iggy besides he was a mate at school and I wanted him to know that he could trust her.

While what Regulus was saying certainly warranted my attention, I didn't want to seem too eager. He claimed to have known my mother before she died. If that was the case, why had he not shown his face until now, years and years later? Had they not been close? If they hadn't been, did that mean she wouldn't have trusted him? Should I not trust him? My guard was up.

And then he mentioned R.A.B. The locket. Regulus. R. No. I refused to believe whatever he was trying to insinuate.

"You don't know anything," I mumbled. I could already sense where this conversation was going, and I was angry that Dumbledore hadn't accompanied this stranger here to soften the blow.

"You're right; I have no clue," I said to him simply.  I did not plan on ever claiming I knew what was going on or what had happened.  "I don't know what happened after your mother and I parted ways... I-I disappeared from her life.  I was... it doesn't matter what I was."  I ran a hand through my hair and sighed.

How could I even really say any of this to him?  I did not even know him.  "If you'll let me, I'd like to try to figure out exactly what's going on," I explained.  "I only know what Dumbledore said to me about things."  I was not sure if that was a good way to put things to Iggy, but I was trying.  I just had a feeling that all of this would either be too much for him to deal with, or it would be too little too late and he would not care to hear a word I said after this.  After all, I was just a stranger to him.

I sighed heavily, beginning to feel a little more confident around him. I appreciated that he acknowledged that he had no role in our lives, but that didn't mean I was going to give him any information. My palms were growing sweaty, but I took a deep breath in an attempt to keep up my poker-face. 

"Clearly you and Mom weren't close, so what do you want to know?" I asked.

At least he was willing to talk.  That was a good sign... right?  I cleared my throat something.  "Dumbledore said you had a locket with R.A.B. and he has a theory that I fit that description," I started out.  I was leaving out the whole father thing for the moment.  "He knew that I had a past with your mum... thought that it was odd you had that locket."

Okay, I was beating around the bush.  But I had no idea what to do.  I was not going to just come out and say something about the father thing.  Not right away.  "I am sorry... bringing this up," I added suddenly.  I could only imagine how he was feeling.

"I'm fine," I admitted, though inside my mind continued to race. "Is it your locket?"

I assumed frankness would be the fastest way to settle this and get him out of here. My eyes darted for a brief moment to a small box on my short bookshelf. In it, I kept the most important items to me: A photo of my mother holding me as an infant, her face sweaty and exhausted but still beaming with a pearly white smile; my wand, for the home in which I lived now had no idea about the magic running through my blood; a string of pearls that belonged to Mom; and, yes, the locket. I'd always figured -- no, I knew -- that it belonged to my father. I'd thought that it was his gift to her, a memento to keep her fixated on him after the abandonment. It was cruel and torturous, but she kept it nonetheless.

And now I had it. And now I was staring into the eyes of its rightful owner.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  "I believe it might be," I said to him honestly.  I had thought I lost it forever -- I had not cared after I left my family about destroying it.  It really needed to be done, but that was only part of my concern.  This boy... he was my son.  I could not believe that I was this close to him but had no idea how to really handle any of this.

"I think I can give you answers," I added, unsure if he wanted to even ask anything.

"I think I already know what those answers are," I confessed. Rising to my feet, I stepped over to the bookshelf. For the first time, my back was to Regulus. Even though my guard was still up, I had a feeling that he wouldn't be trying anything on me. I stooped down and grabbed the box. It had been awhile since I last gazed upon these tokens of my late mother; I could feel myself choking up. I swallowed the pain and blinked back the stinging tears. 

"Here," I said, turning around to face Regulus again. I lifted the locket out of the box, its chain dangling between my fingers. "Is it your locket?"

My eyes widened at the sight of it.  I swallowed, I realized that my throat was tight.  I nodded and said, "Yeah, that's it."  I had not set eyes on that for sixteen years or so.  

The memories of Elle flooded my mind and I took a deep breath.  She had been the bright star on my very dark horizon.  I just did not listen to her, though.  I ran.  I was doing horrible things... I was addicted to all the wrong things.  But how could I explain any of that to Iggy?