You were never a daddy's girl. Not really. Grindelwald couldn't be a father. Yes, his eyes softened almost imperceptibly when he looked at you—but nothing could change the fact that Gellert shouldn't be a father.

Your mother died in childbirth. Grindelwald barely knew the woman. He had to marry someone to avoid being sent to Azkaban. That was the Ministry of Magic's only condition. Gellert could perform magic without a wand—so to prevent the Ministry from having to take drastic measures, he had to settle down.

He couldn't raise a child. When he was in contact with Dumbledore, Albus sometimes helped him raise you. Although Gellert always wanted a son, he didn't complain about having you. A daughter. Less chance of her becoming like him.

And you inherited almost nothing from him. You didn't look like his daughter. You weren't even half as much as he. Your hair darkened with age, and you had a gentler personality – you only inherited his eyes.

Hogwarts was the only place to escape from him. His discipline, cold days, and quiet moments could be overwhelming. And you grew into a highly desirable woman. Hufflepuff. Who would have thought you were his daughter, huh?

Gellert never cared about your life. Until you were 13, he didn't even know what Hogwarts house you were in. He didn't care if you smoked, drank, partied, how you studied, if you had a boyfriend, or even what your sexual orientation was – he gave you a lot of freedom. A bit too much. It was an understatement to say you were surprised when you saw him in the Hogwarts corridors.