A/N: This is my first chapter, and it's also my second chapter of another story not yet written, please only critique nicly, or I'll BAT-BOGEY you beyond belief!

'Ring aroun' a rosy! Pocketa fulla posy! Ashey ashey we all falla downie!' I, being only two years of age, and around three foot high, I attempted to sing, but couldn't. So I settled on singing in an entirely off key voice. I skipped around the parlour, skinny red braids flying out behind me, like a banner of childhood joy. I began singing again. 'Ring aroun' a rosy! Pocketa fulla posy! Ashey Ashey….OOOFF!!!' I fell backward, a long bloody cut ran down my forehead, and ended at my eyebrow. It curved down into the shape of a fang. I was a little dazed, and slightly dizzy, but that didn't stop me from hearing the yells of 'Mudblood! Trash! Disgrace to the name of Black!' I ran, or more toddled to the kitchen where my mother was baking, and my father was attempting to fix the cupboard. I toddled quickly towards my father, nearly knocked him over with the ferocity of my toddling. He picked my up and I began to stammer out, 'Daddy, what's a….a…MuBlod?' He smiled at my mispronunciation. 'It's an insult Miss Krys.' He set me down and I ran into the parlour. I stood up to my full height of three foot one and a half, stuck my hands on my hips, and yelled, 'DON'T CALL ME AND INSULT!!!' Proud of my accomplishment, I began skipping to my room, where I was going to play with my storybook. I began skipping, but with how short my legs were, I tripped, fell, and the light scab that covered the bloody fang shaped cut, burst open. Blood running down my face, and onto my long, thick, black eyelashes, the blood droplets stayed there, rather like rain droplets clinging to the fine blades of grass after a storm. The blood began to run into my violet eyes, which temporarily blinded me. I ran blindly towards the kitchen, bumping unto walls as I ran. Daddyyyyyy!!! Daaddddyyy!!!! Help!! I can't theeeee!!!' I had recently lost a tooth, so my s's came out as t's. Father came rushing out of the kitchen , and I swear, almost fainted when he saw the amount of blood coursing down my tanned face.

My mother, Kiara, came around the corner with a wet towel in her hand. Wiping the pouring blood off my face, and away from my eyes, off my eyelashes. She put a large bandage over it. 'There you go Kryssy. Now, don't fall, or I'll have to seal it up another way.' She smiled and shooed me out of the kitchen.

I ran back to my room to "read" one of my favourite books. 'Quidige fru the ages.' I smiled contentedly to myself. I could read……well, sort of. My whole family knew I was going to Hogwarts. I was in a family of purebloods, not that I was indefinably proud of it or anything. I mean, you can only be so proud being related to a Malfoy.

I never did get along with Draco. Neither did my mum get along with his mother, or my dad with…..urgh… Lucias. Lucias and Draco, you don't name someone you love that, you name someone you hate that.

Any way, mum wanted to make sure I could read, so she began teaching me as soon as I was old enough to comprehend the words. Dad taught me to be three different forms of animagi as soon as I could comprehend the aspect of it. Which took a while. Though I was an incredibly fast learner.

When I had toddled into my room, climbed up the steps stool onto my maroon comforter with golden pillows, and picked up my tiny version of Quidditch Though the Ages, I almost promptly fell asleep.

That night, dressed in my small maroon and gold nightgown, I crawled up the step stool leading to my comfortable bed. I had just eaten a delicious dinner of cauldron cakes, pumpkin juice, and Berti Botts Every Flavor Beans. Not very healthy I know, but it didn't matter. It was the celebration of my second and a half birthday! It was wonderful, except for the one pepper flavoured bean. I gagged that one down, even though it took around 8 or 9 minutes.

One of my favourite gifts was one my dad gave me…. It was a medallion that said 'Marauder' one it!!!! It was beautifully crafted , with a large black paw-print on the back.
It was a little big for me to wear, but still, it's the thought that counts isn't it? I skipped around the room, loving life.

I then happily ran around the room with my little wooden sword, that magically clanged when I fought. 'Haha! Take that, and that! You filthy Slytherins!.' My dad caught me mid-swing in a swipe to the one 'cousinly' picture in which I was forced to smile in a picture with Draco Malfoy. While I was being hoisted into the air, I wriggled and shook and squealed while my dad took me into my room and dropped me into my bed. He tucked me in a pulled his old, my new, Gryffindor house afghan onto my bed. I lay staring at the ceiling, clutching my 'Marauder' medallion and chewing my lip, smiling, happy at being two and half. I closed my eyes, ready to be officially two and half the ever coming midnight. I drifted off to sleep, the sound of my tape ringing in my ears, still clutched my medal. I was contentedly asleep, not knowing the terrors I would find the following morning……..
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