You know when time passes by and you stumble your way through weeks and before you know it a whole month had gone by.

With my nursing training, finishing my schooling, caring for Thomas-J and the Shelby children and helping Newt with his research, I'd managed to make my way through most of April without writing to Tommy.

"I've written to him on your behalf," Ada said as I walked into the kitchen to find her serving breakfast to the children and Thomas-J was dressed and asleep in his pram.

"Something's wrong," I said, pausing to look at the children all neatly dressed and digging into the porridge. "Ada, you're up before nine." I gasped at her in mock shock before going over to Thomas-J and leaning down and pressing a kiss to his tiny fingers.

"Yes, well Polly had me up because she needed to head into town and couldn't keep an eye on the children. When we arrived, Thomas was crying and you were dead asleep. You're working yourself too hard, Rom." I couldn't believe I slept through his cries. "Don't worry, he was only crying because he heard Finn."

That made me feel so much better. Can you hear the sarcasm?

"Haven't you gotta be at work?" Ada asked, causing me to freeze as I realised she was right.

"Fuck, it's Saturday, isn't it?" I mumbled, rising from the table and grabbing a slice of toast from Ada's plate. "Come on, up and at them, I promised the soldiers you'd be joining me today. Finn. have you got your chessboard?"

"Yeah, just like you asked," he grumbled, rising from the table and snatching the chessboard from the side. "Come on, you lot."

Matthew and Mary rose, each grabbing a toy to show off and I collected Edward, placing him and his bear in the pram with Thomas, making sure he didn't squash the baby.

"See you later, Ada," I called out, wheeling the pushchair out the door and rushing down the street like a lunatic with four children at my feet.

Two hours later, I was treating a soldier whose face had been burned by some explosion. Finn was in one corner playing chess or learning in his case, while Katie was chatting away to a young man that lost his leg. She was teaching him how to draw and shouting at him when he used the wrong colour.

Mary was playing tea with two other men, demanding that she was the Queen and they must always refer to her as Queen Mary. They laughed along with her demands and it was nice to see them smiling. Not in all cases, but in these soldiers, children could help take their minds from the horrors they'd seen.

Edward was sitting on the bed beside me, cuddling his teddy as he looked at the man holding baby Tom with a frown.

"You must keep busy," Trevor said, nodding between Thomas-J and Edward.

"I love a big family," I told him, dabbing carefully at his scaring, making sure the ointment was carefully placed across his face. I wasn't going to mention it to anyone, but I had slipped a bit of numbing potion on the cloth when no one was looking. "Children bring such imaginations with them, they brighten up a room."

"They're not afraid of us," he muttered, adjusting Thomas so he was sitting up with his help.

"Why would they be?" I asked, frowning as I glanced down at Thomas-J. "The only reason children have to be scared is because of the way they were raised. If they see their parents fearing something, then they will too."

"You have a weird way of seeing things," he said, running his hand over Thomas-J's head before peering up at me. "You got a fella out there?"

What was I supposed to say to that? No, I didn't, but I could consider Tommy as a fella. There was something brewing there, at least I thought there was on my end. He sent his last letter with the words, 'Love, Tommy' surely that meant something right?

"I've heard the nurses speaking," he went on when it was clear I wasn't going to answer. "They say you have the bastard son of a Shelby. That this one here is the son of Arthur Shelby."

I snorted at his words, shaking my head as I tried to keep in my laughter. If anything, Thomas-J actually looked like Thomas.

"No, Thomas-J isn't Arthur's son. He's actually the son of my late sister, Merry. She died during childbirth. His father returned from the war after sustaining an injury about a year ago, he kicked us out when he found out about the baby. Luckily for us, we had family in Small Heath."

"You've been dealt a bad hand."

"Not really." I shrugged, setting down my cloth and leaning back to look at him. I took Thomas from his lap and pressed a kiss to his head as he looked up at me. "I wouldn't have him if I'd been dealt a good hand. Merry wasn't well, she wasn't going to live for much longer and she wasn't going to give up on Thomas-J either."

"A noble woman, I would have liked to meet her."

"Miss Lupin." I turned to face the door where Doctor Hayes, Doctor Jones and Doctor Smith were observing. Doctor Jones seemed particularly interested in the way Katie was interacting with her soldier friend, the fact that this leg was missing did not bother her a bit. "It seems you have blown us away again," Doctor Hayes said, a smile on his face as they came into the room, looking down at Edward as he climbed up to Trever, smiling his toothy smile at the injured man.

"They just needed someone to talk to besides themselves. Children bring a certain trait to the room that us adults forget about," I told them, adjusting Thomas on my hip as he pulled at my hair.

"And what is that trait, if I may ask"? Doctor Smith said, peering curiously at me.

"Compassion, Doctor Smith. They don't judge and they would willingly make friends with anyone if offered a bit of kindness. We have a lot to learn from children, I suggest you encourage family visits." I glanced back at the room of soldiers knowing many of them weren't able to see their family. "Love can heal a great many things."

April 27th 1917

Dear Tommy,

You don't know how pleased I am to receive your letter.

I am sorry I haven't been able to respond, Ada said she replied for me. I've been wrapped in so much I haven't found the time to write back.

I've made it a weekly habit of taking the children to visit the soldiers I care for on a Saturday. Not one of them fears them for their injuries, Katie had taken to making them all cards in which she draws them with their loss of limb - she can be very demanding when she sets her mind on things.

If you think Katie's bad you should see Mary. She demands to be called Queen Mary upon arrival and if that's not bad enough, they all give in to her, giving her, her every wish. Matthew has begun to learn French, one of the men has a French mother and is teaching him. He is getting rather good for a seven-year-old.

Finn's learning chess and Polly says he's going to have your brains if he keeps it up. You should have seen his face when Marcus let him win the other day.

Thomas-J is a marvel. Did you know he's already sitting up by himself! Not only last week was he in need of assistance, but now he can do it all by himself! Polly said it's early for a six-month-old to be doing that. I always knew he was going to be an overachiever. He must have inherited it from me.

How long has it been since we started speaking?

Since July? That's what? Nine months?

Is it foolish of me to feel so content when writing to you? I feel happier. I feel as if I have known you for my whole life yet we have never met.

Am I a dreamer for hoping that I will be able to see you when this war ends? Am I a fool for thinking that each passing day, as I think about you, I'm slowly letting my heart be yours? Am I a fool because I think I might love you?

I'll let you ponder on that, Thomas Shelby.

My love, always and forever,

Romy x

P.s. I have included your monthly photograph of Thomas-J. At the rate this war is going, I might have to send them to you every other month in fear you won't have any room to store them.

"She's a saint, Tom," Arthur said to him, handing him back the letter and looking down at the photograph. If Arthur didn't know Tommy had been in France since the beginning of the war, he'd swear the baby was his son. "He looks like you."

"It's the eyes," Tommy said, not needing to look at the photograph to know what Tommy meant. It was evident how much the baby looked like him, but if he was to admit it, he was quite proud. "I think he looks like Romy."

"Aye, they 'ave a lot of features in common, especially the mouth."

"You've been staring at her lips, Arthur?" Tommy teased and Arthur almost choked on his own spit. How long had it been since Tommy had been like this? The death of Greta had turned his brother into a cold man and as each passing day of the war went on, Arthur was scared he'd never see the kind, loving Tommy again.

"Yeah, been remembering where I need to kiss her for fixing you, you arse," Arthur replied, tapping his brother on the knee. "What are you gonna do about it, Tom?"

"About you or the letter?"

"About her feelings for you?"

Romy had made it very clear in her letter that she had fallen in love with Tommy. Arthur didn't need to be as smart as his brother to understand that Tommy also felt the same way. He hadn't seen him smile the way he did when looking at her photos.

"It ain't that simple," Tommy said, pulling out all his photographs of the baby and pointing at each one. "He's involved."

"And by pointing that out, you already show you care." Arthur paused and scratched at his moustache. "I know you love 'im, Tom. I see it in your eyes. You think you can go home and be a da to 'im?"

"I don't know, Arthur."

"Alrigh' say we go 'ome and some man is courting our Romy, right. What if she said she was waiting for you and 'ad been turning down his advances. If she asks you to be with her, would you? Or would you let another man be Thomas-J's da?"

When Arthur put it like that, Tommy knew exactly what he'd do.

There would be no chance for a man to court Romy when he went home. As soon as he set foot on English soil he was going to be making it known that Romy was his and by extension, Thomas-J.

"Is there a reason you wrote to me, Miss Lupin?" Anastasia Longbottom asked as I ushered her into the kitchen.

"Thank you for coming, and it's just Romy or Andromeda, whatever you prefer," I said, taking her cloak and hanging it up. She nodded politely as the teapot poured her a cup of tea and I nervously glanced over at Tom in the pram. He was sleeping peacefully and his chubby little cheeks looked adorable.

"Is there something wrong?"

"I'm afraid there's something wrong with Thomas-J," I blurted, covering my mouth in fear that I'd been too loud.

"There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with him. He seems a happy baby," she replied, peering over at him with a small frown.

"That's the problem, I'm not sure if there would be any physical signs." It had been something I feared for a long time now. In many books about Voldemort, there hadn't been much about his childhood, but all the accounts said he'd been a quiet baby and a weird child - their words, not mine. "Thomas-J was conceived while his father was on a love potion. It wasn't Merry's proudest moment, but she craved a child and his father was distant." That sounded about as good as I could get it.

"Oh."

"I've read a lot about children conceived from love potions. It says they can never love and I don't want to believe that. Thomas-J is such a happy baby. He laughs, Anastasia, surly a baby that cannot love wouldn't laugh?"

"Have you taken into account the blood-contract?"

"No. Why would I?"

"Merry's no longer his mother, not since her passing." Where was she getting at? As if sensing my confusion, she rolled her eyes. "You are Thomas-J's biological mother. Your family, who you're descended from, is in his blood. Unfortunately for Merry, her blood isn't as strong in him as yours. He may have some traits from her, but he will mainly take traits from you. Have you seen his looks? He shares a lot of facial features with you." She paused and looked at the three framed photographs above the pram. She rose, frowning as she took down the photograph of Tommy and glanced between the frame and the baby. "He looks remarkably like this young man. How's that possible?"

How was that possible? He's never seen Tommy and he wasn't related to him. There could be no possible way for them to look alike. Wait.

"You said he'd have some of my traits, right?" At her nod, I bit my lip and looked sheepishly at her. "Would it be possible he had my metamorphmagus abilities?" I asked, changing my hair colour to show her what I could do.

"It might be possible. Has he shown any sign of dramatic changes? Bright hair? Animal noses?" I shook my head because Thomas-J had never displayed the signs I did as a baby. "It might be a mutated form, he probably has enough of it to take on these features." She held up the photograph of Tommy. "I'd be interested to see if there's any progress. Shall we meet up every other month?"

I'd never noticed this before, but she reminded me of Newt when he discovered a new creature. And who was I to crush her dreams when I was just as curious to learn about this ability Thomas-J had?