Chapter 1: I am more mature than my guardians

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I wasn't even old enough to have written them when they came out L

I, Cassiopeia Prewett Preston-Lively, welcome you, with all my heart, to hell. Because that is what my house is in the summer. Hell. H-E-L-L. Deep, dark, unforgiving hell, the inescapable void I wish I didn't call home. And that is why I am currently so ecstatic that the date is September 1st, the beginning of Hogwarts, where I can reconvene with humanity.

My parents died this summer. I know its blunt, but it's the truth. They are dead, gone from the world, inexistent in life. I will never see them again.

They were bad people, my parents. Their parents had gone to school with Tom Riddle, and having been in his year in Slytherin, had known the murderer. They were some of his best . . . "friends", to put it simply. As Riddle had grown into Voldemort, and Voldemort had grown powerful, my grandparents became his most trusted advisors. They were pure, as pure as time could tell, and smart. Cunning, as any Slytherin should be: you will never hear the name Lively or Preston among those of other famous Death Eaters because my ancestors were so. They hid in the shadows of the others, directing Riddle on his next move, eradicating Muggles and muggleborns without the consequences his more legendary followers encountered (like discovery)

When it came time to pass the torch, Grandfather Lively and Grandmother Lively gave the duty to their only son. Grandfather Preston and Grandmother Preston offered up their only daughter. My parents became the new advisors to Voldemort, devising his plans, creating evil, and following in their parents' footsteps. They fell in love, and then I came along, and Voldemort was ecstatic. Here was this new child, this wonderful new child, who could be raised in his favor and become even more powerful than its parents. Here was a dutiful, utterly loyal follower.

And so I was allowed to live.

My parents indulged me in every form of magic existent. At age three, my first signs of magic appeared: conjuring of random objects, the occasional control of elements. By age seven, I was eloquent in Occlumency and Legilemency. I could read my parents' thoughts, access their memories, without even realizing it. By age ten, I had mastered wandless magic, the hardest of them all. In all forms, I was a magical prodigy.

But Voldemort didn't anticipate one thing. As I grew up, I became defiant. Why should I let Voldemort kill these innocent people? Why did my parents help him? Why should I let him use me to do it? Even at age eleven, I was smart, capable, and ready to fight Voldemort. I had kept my disgust hidden from my parents for as long as I could remember, but at Hogwarts, I was free to be myself. On the first day, when I was sorted into Gryffindor, Voldemort ignorantly looked at it as a chance to get to know the enemy. He was convinced I was on his side, because how could the child raised to love the world of evil be essentially good? But me, I looked upon my sorting as a second chance, another way to fight him.

For five years at Hogwarts, I kept myself hidden. I made no friends, no enemies. I just watched. I drew no attention to myself, just watched people and their habits. This summer, the summer before sixth year and after fifth, the Aurors raided a Death Eater meeting my parents had been attending. They were killed in the raid, and yet I felt no pain or loss, but fear. I knew Voldemort would come for me now, so I ran. I would not join him. I would not use my powers to aid his cause. I am not my parents.

By watching people, I grow accustomed to who they are, who their friends are, where they come from. And so when the Aurors picked me up in Diagon Alley, I was surprised to believe they thought I was a run-away Prewett. My name is Cassiopeia Prewett Preston-Lively, but Prewett is only a middle name to me. I have no relation to Molly, or Gideon, or Fabian, blood-wise or habitually. I do not share the customary red hair or pale skin or abundance of freckles; but the Aurors, I assume, just thought that because there are so many Prewetts, I must be related somehow, because they had never heard of the Livelys or the Prestons. So I was transferred into the guardianship of Gideon and Fabian Prewett, who did, of course, have the customary features. And on that day, I became Cassie Prewett.

"So, CP, you going to be alright without us?" Gideon asks, slinging his arm around my shoulder. I smirk at him. "I managed fine without you for five years, Gideon. I'm pretty sure I can do it again."

Fabian speaks from my left side. "We just want to make sure you're going to be okay, Cass. You are our responsibility now, you know."

I roll my eyes. I don't even know why they made them my guardians. They aren't even out of school yet, and they're only seventeen. They still live with their sister! I respond to Fabian, "You only have guardianship because the rest of the Prewetts are too old to take care of me, and Molly just happened to be on her honeymoon. By chance, you two were the only ones home when the Aurors knocked."

Gideon sticks his tongue out at me. "You love us."

I stick my tongue out right back. "Only by association," I say.

We three board the Hogwarts Express together and Fabian hands me my trunk. "Now go," he shooes me away playfully.

"Go find your little friends," Gideon finishes for his twin.

I walk off down the train to find a compartment, calling after me as I go, "I'm only a year younger than you, you gits! Not little by any standards!" I can hear them laughing behind me.

I find an empty compartment a little ways down the train, open the door, load my trunk, and then settle down to read my book. I am not twenty pages into it when the compartment door bursts open, and four rather handsome boys enter. They are the Marauders, a group quite interesting to watch.

The one in front has unusually messy black hair, his hazel eyes hiding behind wire-rimmed glasses. He is pretty tall, taller than one of the other boys but not nearly as tall as the other two, and gangly. I know him to be James Potter, the lad so utterly and pathetically in love with Lily Evans, who apparently wants nothing to do with him. I know she secretly fancies him, though; it's really not that hard to tell.

The boy next to Potter is short and pudgy, with a pointy nose and watery blue eyes. He vaguely reminds me of a rat. By watching, I have noticed that Peter Pettigrew is the least likable of the four. He is needy and weak in the face of adversity. He likes to stick by those who are strong and on the top of the figurative food chain in order to save his skin.

The third boy is, without a doubt, Sirius Black. He has shiny black hair that falls perfectly in front of his face and lustful, deep, grey eyes. He is the handsomest of all of Hogwarts, even I can see that, despite my lack of interest. I had heard of the Blacks through my parents and Voldemort. Apparently they were supporters in theory, but Walburga and Orion were not actually Death Eaters. They did deposit large amounts of money into His cause, though, and forced their beliefs onto their children. I know Sirius Black ran away from home a little while ago for that specific reason.

The last boy is the most troubled. After watching all of Hogwarts, joyous Marauders included, that is the only way I can describe him. Remus Lupin, with his sandy blonde hair and amber eyes, is attractive, but painful to look at. It is not even the scars of his face or his werewolf secret that turns me away, but the hurt in his eyes. He has seen and experienced horrors a grown man would cower from. It changes you, those experiences. I can attest to that, for there are many things that my parents and Voldemort have done that I would give anything to forget. And for our dark, but still apparent similarities, Remus Lupin is my favorite Marauder.

He is also the one that speaks first as the four boys enter the compartment. "May we sit here?" he asks. "All the other compartments are full, and this is the only one open enough." He smiles apologetically, and I can see one of the scars from his transformations ripple on his cheek.

I nod. "Of course. Feel free to." I go back to my book. Just because I do not use my social skills often does not mean I cannot be amiable when I want to. You have to be charming to deceive Voldemort.

The boys sit down and begin talking amongst themselves while I read my book. They seem to not notice me again; over the years, I have become great at hiding among the shadows. I am never seen unless I want to be. The train ride passes quickly, and when it ends, the Marauders leave the compartment without a goodbye. I smile to myself. It's good to know that despite living with Fabian and Gideon for the summer, I am still practiced at remaining virtually invisible.

I ride by myself in a carriage up to the school as well. It is a normal occurrence; every year is the same. Being alone allows me to practice my magic. Being alone lets me watch others. Being alone permits me go unnoticed to the world.

After the sorting, the Great Hall is bustling with students eating the feast. I serve myself some carrots and some beet salad, moving to stab a beet with my fork after also pouring some pumpkin juice.

"CASSIE!"

I start, dropping my fork onto my plate. Who in the name of Merlin's hat is shouting at me?

I can see Gideon and Fabian waving their arms at me in my peripheral vision. Please go away, please go away, please go away, I think. They're ruining my utterly non-existent, invisible reputation.

"WHY ARE YOU EATING BY YOURSELF?" Fabian yells down the table at me. I sense people turning their heads to stare at us. Maybe if I ignore them they'll go away, and the staring people will think the Prewett twins are talking to someone else. Someone who actually exists socially in the world of Hogwarts.

But I have no such luck, because Fabian and Gideon proceed to grab their plates and sit down directly across from me. They start staring as well.

I look up from my salad. "What's up, buttercups?" I ask them.

Gideon speaks, at a normal decibel this time. "Why aren't you eating with your friends?"

"What do you mean? CP doesn't have friends," Fabian teases me.

I respond to the both of them. "Of course I don't, you imbeciles."

The twins' mouths drop in shock. Merlin and Agrippa, I think, they're over-dramatic.

"What do you mean you don't have friends?" Fabian says incredulously.

Gideon reasons, "Everybody has friends."

These two are popular, funny, handsome, value attention if a little too much. They can't seem to fathom why some pretty little sixth-year, who is perfectly amiable, doesn't have a single friend.

"Did you ever consider that maybe I don't want friends?" I ask them.

They just gape at me.

The twins will not leave me alone. The badger me constantly about the lack of friendship in my life, and every time, I tell them I don't need it.

"Everyone needs friends," Gideon says to me condescendingly

Fabian pinches my cheek mockingly, "Even you, CP."

Finally classes start, and Fabian and Gideon are too busy with N.E.W.T.s level homework to pressure me into friendships. I do appreciate their concern, but they will never understand. I can't risk getting close with anybody in fear that Voldemort might kill them. It is better just to watch, to observe rather than participate. I am much too powerful and dangerous to be involved in something as trivial as friendship, no matter how conceded that sounds.

Today is our first day with real homework, so I decide to head straight to the corner of the common room to finish it. I would complete the various assignments in the library, but I find that it is much too quiet in there; I work better with a low chatter.

My first assignment is in Advanced NEWT Charms. Flitwick assigned us a series of scenarios in which we have to assess and decide which charm would be best to use. It is rather simple homework for the Advanced NEWT class, and I complete it in a pathetically short amount of time. He really should give us something that challenges our intellect in the slightest, even if it is the first real day of classes.

The assignments of Advanced NEWT Arithmancy, Advanced NEWT Herbology, and Advanced NEWT Ancient Ruins are all relatively easy as well, and by the time I am finished the clock has only chimed 8 o'clock. Nevertheless, I still have three two-foot essays on a summary of last year's curriculum in Advanced NEWT Transfiguration, NEWT History of Magic, and Advanced NEWT Defense Against the Dark Arts which I am not looking forward too. But still, at least I got off of a Potions essay by brewing a perfect Draught of Living Death, and the three essays aren't due for a week.

I decide to gather my things and head to my dorm to take a quick shower before bed. It may only be 8, but I am rather tired and am looking forward to reading my book some and getting to bed early. I rise, slinging by bag over my shoulder, and turn to walk up the stairs.

CRASH!

Despite the Common Room of Gryffindor Tower being nearly empty, I still manage to run into one of the only people occupying it: Sirius Black.

Oh my Merlin, am I getting noticed a lot today.