Chapter 1: Through Serpentine Eyes

"Don't ever cry," the woman spoke, holding her daughter's small face in her hands.

The skies were dark and only illuminated when lightning bolts flashed to show its anger. The girl covered her ears as the thunder rumbled loudly, causing the earth to shake. Her father was a few meters away from her mother and herself, looking down at something that lay in the mud.

"We are really dirty," the girl mumbled softly, touching her mother's face and wiping away some of the mud that covered her cheeks. "May we go home and bathe?"

"Mimi, listen to me," her mother sounded desperate, heavily gasping for air, "Please do not cry. Do not let them see that you are weak, because you are not. You are a strong little girl, are you not?"

"I am not crying, mother," she whined, "I do not like the mud, but it is fun to play with."

She sat on the slimy ground, sinking her hands into the dirt and pulling some out to show her mother, "See?"

Her mother's expression was beginning to harden, but the sadness was still noticeable in her eyes. The girl smiled at her, throwing the lump of dirt she held right at her. The woman wiped the dirt away from her face and smiled sadly at her daughter, rising to her full stature. She walked towards her husband, hugging him tightly, but her face remained as emotionless as it had always been.

The girl continued playing with the mud, sticking her hands in, pulling them out, and making a large lump of mud in-between her legs. She raised her eyes slightly when she noticed her parents hugging, and was soon intrigued by something not too far from her.

She crawled on the ground, trying to get a better look. Her mother began gasping again as she tried to keep her sanity, while her father just continued to stare at the mud. The girl got closer and closer until she recognized what, or who, was in the mud.

"Fuyu is sleeping on the ground, mother," The girl poked her brother's face with her finger before throwing herself on top of him, "Wake up, niichan*…we can play in the mud together."

She rested her head on his chest and hugged his body, closing her eyes. When he refused to wake up, she usually pretended to fall asleep on him, but something felt different. His chest was not rising and falling as it usually did, and he felt awfully cold. The girl was picked up by her father, who pulled her closely. His chest was rising and falling too quickly, compared to her brother's.

"Niichan is not going to wake up anymore."

The girl looked at her father's face before frowning at him.

"Do not say that," she angrily glared at him, "he is not as lazy as you say."

"Niichan is not alive anymore," her mother whispered into her ear.

The girl kicked her father repeatedly until he let her down. She jumped on her brother's body again, hitting him in the chest. She hoped his eyes would blink slowly before he pulled her into a hug. She wanted to see his dizzy smile and have him reach behind his head to pull out a piece of candy, which he always gave her when he woke up.

But that didn't happen.

Her brother just lay there, with her on top of him.

Niichan (Japanese)— an endearing nickname meaning "older brother"

Breakfast time at Hogwarts was not as cheery as it usually was, at least not for those who were in the Inquisitorial Squad. Umbridge had reprimanded its few members for the lack of information on the Defense Association meetings. I personally had a few theories, but the doubts I had

notably angered our high inquisitor.

"I believe this is their schedule, professor," I handed Professor Umbridge the piece of paper I carried around.

"And you're sure this is when they meet?" She turned to face me, her smile taking up most of her face. I hoped that meant I'd get another cup of tea, considering I was beginning to get thirsty again.

"Not exactly. These are the times I see more students roaming the halls. I believe the amount of students out has a direct correlation with the time the Defense Association meets," I pointed at the time slots I had drawn, "You see, they are always out around this time, so I—"

"I can't possibly use this if you haven't proven it yet," She practically threw the paper at me, "If anyone has any real evidence that will help us catch the Defense Association in the act, please inform me. Otherwise, I'd like to be left alone for a while."

I angrily bit my blueberry muffin, took a sip of orange juice and bit the muffin once more. I had a lot of respect for the high inquisitor, the woman who took time out of her ministry work to fix the more trivial matters that existed at Hogwarts. Being reprimanded by someone like her embarrassed me, considering I could not talk back like I normally would.

"Huh, Yuri, I didn't know you'd act so childish over being yelled at," Draco Malfoy's airy laughter filled my ears. I tried to ignore him, but he nudged me a few times before I turned to look at him, "You're really fed up over this, aren't you?"

"Yurika," I corrected, "And I do not like being yelled at by anyone, especially not someone whom I admire," I wrinkled my nose, glancing at the high inquisitor having her own breakfast, reading the Daily Prophet. She had kept an awfully close watch on that thing, attempting to keep more rumors of the Dark Lord's return from spreading.

"That's why I didn't join," Adrian Pucey pet my head, before I slapped his hand away, "Maybe the fact that everyone in the I.S. gives the Slytherin house a bad name might help too."

I scoffed, pushing him away altogether, "That was not necessary."

Adrian opened his mouth to say something, but I simply stuck a slice of toast in his mouth. I knew whatever he was about to say was best left unsaid. I lowered my head and continued to eat, but I couldn't stop thinking about Professor Umbridge.

That is, until I heard roaring laughter coming from the Gryffindor table.

I glanced at the cluster of people surrounding Harry Potter, or as I had dubbed him, the boy who should have died. Everyone seemed rather worried most of the time, but there were those moments when they smiled so much that I envied them.

"Disgusting, aren't they?" Draco sneered, shooting a glare at out smiling peers, "All of them."

I nodded slowly while Adrian rolled his eyes. For some reason, he never joined us when we insulted the Gryffindors. Something about being "too mature" for that, but really, I just think he was not raised like Draco and I.

Then again, my parents were never like that either. Although our families stayed close together, they were both rather different. I stayed at Malfoy Manor quite often as a kid, since Draco was one of my only friends growing up. Our parents would talk about things we were both too young to understand. While this happened, Draco would teach me all the things my parents never told me.

"They're not like us," Draco's gray eyes lit up with something I couldn't distinguish, "They're dirty, those muggles and mudbloods."

"Muggles look just like us, but dress funny," I snickered, "What makes them so different?"

"They don't have magic. They weren't given what we are. They're stupid, foolish. They don't know a thing about the real world," the boy rolled his eyes, handing me the book he would read to me before bed.

"But mudbloods have magic…"

"Yet they don't know a thing about magic when they show up to school," Draco scoffed, "My parents told me not to associate myself with them. Won't you join me?"

"I suppose," I shrugged, "Now enough about mudbloods. Read me the story!"

Sometimes, I thought being around Draco had not been the best way to improve my personality, but he definitely kept me from being around the wrong crowd. Although the Gryffindors seemed to be happy and cared for all the time, I was extremely proud of being a Slytherin.

Our house was looked down upon because of people like Draco and I.

Purebloods.

Draco always made a big fuss about how great it was to be a pureblood. He told me that we were special and that was why he was friends with me. I was not always flattered by the way he treated me simply for being born into the world like that, but sometimes, I liked it.

He also taught me a lot about purebloods he never wanted me to talk to.

"The Weasleys. You'll know it when you smell them. There are far too many Weasleys at Hogwarts. You can distinguish them by their red hair, freckled faces, and hand-me-down robes," Draco spat.

I always enjoyed the passion he had for things, whether it was love or hate. He reminded me of my brother.

I listened to him go on and on until a question finally came to my head, "But they are purebloods. Like us."

"No! Not like us! Never like us!"

I never understood these things before I arrived at Hogwarts. Everything slowly fell into place as I met these characters.

They did not have the pride Draco and I had for being purebloods. They were not as dirty as I imagined them, but they were not people I would talk to. I heard people talking about how pureblood Slytherins felt they were too good to talk to anyone, but I felt better being one of those.

I would hate to be classified as them.

Those who brought shame to the purebloods.

"What are the ingredients to the Draught of Peace?" Professor Snape raised his awfully long nose up in the air. He paced around the room, looking at each and every one of us, his lips twisted into that somewhat emotionless smirk that I had gotten used to seeing over the years.

I raised my hand quickly, but before Professor Snape could pick a student to answer the question, my second least favorite person couldn't contain her excitement and blurted out the answer for all to hear.

"Powdered moonstone, syrup of hellebore, and powdered porcupine quills, sir," Hermione Granger was so confident in her answer, as always, that she smiled right at the professor, which most tried to avoid, "The ingredients are actually quite easy; the hard part is making sure that the potion goes through all the necessary color changes in the exact order, otherwise, the potion is no-good."

"Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape drawled, "Miss Granger, will you ever learn that speaking out of turn is unacceptable in my class? Perhaps serving detention with me when your classes are over will help you remember."

I snorted softly and tried to keep my laughter quiet enough to not gather any attention; I had decided to take another bite out of my hidden blueberry muffin while Snape's attention was on Granger. That's when my least favorite person spoke up.

"Professor Snape," Potter started, looking at me as if I were the potions master, "You're being unfair. Hermione was answering a question and you took ten points from our house. Why don't you take points from Slytherin for eating in class and laughing at another student being reprimanded?"

I chewed on the piece of muffin that was still in my mouth, swallowing rapidly and pretending that I hadn't heard what the chosen one had just said.

"Mister Harry Potter, are you not aware that speaking out of turn is unacceptable in potions class?" I shook my head at him, smirking when his eyes formed an accusing glare, "I am sorry to say that Professor Snape will have to deduct ten more points from Gryffindor."

"Thank you for following the rules, Miss Haneda," Snape's face was still emotionless, but his tone was awfully sarcastic, "I will be seeing you after class as well."

Although I had gotten in partial trouble for mocking Professor Snape, seeing the look on Harry Potter's face was definitely worth it. A pair of blue eyes looked my way as my amusement grew, sitting right on the freckled face of one of the many Weasleys that attended Hogwarts.

"Professor Snape…you forgot to take points from Slytherin," Weasley mumbled softly, seeming too scared to talk to the professor, but still speaking for the sake of his house.

"Why does it matter?" I rolled my eyes, "Potter is probably going to do something extremely stupid by the end of this year, which will be seen as heroic in Dumbledore's eyes, therefore, getting a ridiculous amount of points for Gryffindor. So quit crying about it."

The classroom was quiet and Weasley seemed too shocked to respond. He turned away, whispering to his best friend. I almost felt like throwing something at the two to give them something to talk about.

"Don't sound so jealous," Draco nudged me with his elbow, "That'll give them the satisfaction of thinking they're better than us."

"But they aren't better than us! They annoy me so much; I wish the Dark Lord just showed up and killed them already," I sneered quietly, hoping no one else had heard me say that. Draco's eyes seemed to change colors, a fairly nervous look occupying his face.

"You can't possibly believe he's back already just because Potter said so."

I shrugged before setting up my cauldron and pulling out the instructions to the potion we would brew that day. I knew Draco Malfoy's father was a Death Eater; if anyone knew about the Dark Lord's return, it was him. Draco was not a bad guy, no matter how much he wished to be one, so I tried to keep myself from asking about the Death Eaters.

"I brought the ingredients," Draco said, pushing a few items forward. I took them and began making the potion, almost forgetting that the assignment was teamwork.

Draco did not seem upset that I was not asking him for help; instead, he took that as an opportunity to mess with Potter.

"Why must you constantly start trouble with the Gryffindors?" Snape directed his eyes towards me once Granger had left. It was already dark outside and I was in a hurry to leave, simply because I liked to roam the halls with Draco and Adrian, scaring those who were out of bed (although Adrian did not agree).

I acted as if I had not heard Professor Snape say anything until his eyes began boring into my soul, "I was simply reiterating the rules that must be followed in your classroom. After all, it is my duty as a member of the Inquisitorial Squad to ensure order and—"

"Enough," Snape shook his head, holding his hand not too far away from my face. "I do not believe that you should be a part of this group. Nor do I believe that you are using the powers that were given to you for good. I am sure you are aware of that."

I huffed, rolling my eyes at the professor, "Must you always bring up this nonsense? I feel that I am doing good. I am helping the ministry and showing my loyalty to those who deserve it."

"Could it be that you are just doing this because you hate Potter?"

"I have told you time and time again that I do not do it because of him. I do not ever do anything because of him," I hissed, "Could it be that you just really hate Professor Umbridge for taking your spot as Hogwarts' defense against the dark arts teacher?"

I turned around and walked out of the office, knowing that the conversation was not over yet. I felt extremely guilty for hurting one of my favorite people, but he sometimes angered me. Especially when he brought him up. It seemed that he always wanted to make me feel like he understood.

I did not want anyone to understand me. I just wanted to be left alone.

Although, I did prefer it on some other occasion.

The corridor seemed darker than usual. I knew the reason why, too. The D.A. was meeting that night, which I had taken note of for the past few weeks. I had not been able to track down their location, but I noticed that too many students were out of bed on certain days, which led me to think that they were all part of said group.

I continued to walk forward, very quietly to avoid being spotted. It seemed to be working. I was kind of scared of what would happen if someone did see me; I normally only went out with someone else. I was completely alone.

"Curse you, Snape," I muttered under my breath. It was his fault that I had not been able to meet up with Draco beforehand.

My right ear detected movement, which made me punch the air to my right. That is all it was: air. I was reacting without thinking first; that was never a good sign. Perhaps it was because I was nervous, but I was not sure. All I knew was that I wanted to leave as quickly as I could.

I did not care if I did not catch anyone sneaking out that night. I did not even care if I was close to catching Harry Potter trying to get to his little meeting room. All I knew was that I wanted to run.

I had never realized how terrified of the dark I was.

I began running down the corridors, not looking back. Perhaps if I ran fast enough, whoever was there would not notice me, nor care that I had heard them while they were on their way to cause trouble.

The sensation of being chased came over me as I ran faster and faster, until it completely stopped.

As did I.

I took deep breaths and put my hands on my knees, trying to keep myself from collapsing. I felt a little better after running. I had gotten rid of whoever would harm me.

Or so I thought.

As my breaths slowed down, I felt a hand clasping on my mouth. That surprised me enough to make me breathe deeper once more. I tried to call for help, but was unable. All I heard were whiny noises, which were surely meant to be my muffled screams.

I quickly moved my hands up, trying to pull the hand that was covering my mouth away, when I noticed that my waist was also being held firmly in place. What the hell was going on?!

"Shhh…"

That noise made me struggle further. I was absolutely panicking, but was still not able to move at all.

"I'm not going to hurt you, just calm down!" The voice seemed rather unfamiliar to me, but the words seemed kind of reassuring.

I was spun around, but not released. The moonlight was coming in from the window, which it had not been doing before. I was somewhat able to see the blue eyes and red hair that were in front of me. For a moment, I thought it was Weasley, but as my vision cleared after a few seconds, I realized I had been thinking about the wrong Weasley.

"Hello, would you like a piece of candy?"

A what?

I continued to try and pull the hand away, but I didn't need to. The boy pulled his hand away and began laughing. Yes, laughing.

"I do not understand what is so funny," a blank expression covered my face. I was no longer worried; I was more annoyed, if anything. I was also confused.

"Your face! You were terrified, weren't you?" The boy asked, still laughing. "I just wanted to give you a piece of candy," he grinned, raising a round and green piece of candy between his fingers.

That looked all too familiar. I had seen a jar of those inside Umbridge's office, stored away with many other items that had been confiscated recently. There had to be a reason why Umbridge had taken those up, so I turned them down.

"I am fine without your candy, you filthy boy," I rolled my eyes. "Identify yourself."

"I can't quite follow your orders because you'll got and rat me out to your so-called high inquisitor," he continued to smile, which then led me to think he was insane, "I just need you to keep your friends away."

"You are a Weasley. Either you tell me, or I can get both you and your twin in trouble for being out late, heading to a D.A. meeting. I do not know which of the two you are, but I will make sure you pay for frightening me," I sneered. "Also, just in case your powers of observation fail you, I am alone."

"That's true, but you're not always alone," he shook his head.

That was creepy, "You have been spying on me?"

"Not just you, of course. You're not all that special just because Malfoy tells you that you are. I've been spying on everyone. We're doing something good and you Slytherins are endangering that."

He seemed genuinely worried, which made me pay more attention. I had been doing the right thing, but according to him, he had been doing the right thing. I did not know what to do, so I just shut my eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"I am just going to wait for you to leave me alone. You are not dangerous, are you? So I trust that you will just leave."

There was no sound or movement for a moment. Soon, I took a deep breath and began dusting off my clothes, trying to get the Weasley germs away from me. It seemed that he had decided to leave, and I opened my eyes. He was still there; his arms crossed and that same stupid grin on his face.

"I'm not going until you promise to stay away. That's a warning."

"I am not staying away."

"I guess that means you'll be seeing more of me very often."

"Fred?" I heard another voice calling in the darkness, "Fred, we were supposed to—"

Fred tapped me on the shoulder and turned to look at his twin.

"I just had some business to take care of, is all," Fred walked towards his brother, whom I wanted to follow, but could not.

My shoes were stuck to the floor.

Literally.