Disclaimer: You know the drill, I don't own anything by J.K. Rowling.

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It had been – a horrible accident. Everyone agreed that it was simply dreadful and unimaginable, couldn't have happened to a nicer person.

She just couldn't find it in herself to sorrow the loss.

She watched from her corner as the matron read a few of the younger children a story. She had been here a month, talking rarely but helping out when she was asked too. No one tried to get her to talk; at least not now, her behavior was, on all accounts, to be expected. Besides, those here had their own problems and did not want the grief of yet another to add to their own. Of course, they did share their problems; and some times quite freely, but she wasn't anywhere near their age and no one felt enough kinship with her to confide and be confided in.

After a while she sat up and left, the matron looked up briefly but continued to read. She headed towards the back door of the residence -which led to the garden, one of the few places she felt at ease in. She watched idly as a garden gnome poked it's ugly head out of a bush and began creeping towards the row of carrots nearest to it. It never made it that far. With an oath it dodged a deadly pounce from someone's calico and scurried back to the bush, the cat in hot pursuit. She sat reclining against an ancient Lilac, half dozing, thinking random frivolous thoughts –or- nothing at all. The weather was beautiful, white puffy clouds making an appearance once in a while, and a light breeze to make the hot day comfortable. I think I could stay like this forever. No one to bother me, no one-. She cut the train of thought quickly, glaring at the heart shaped leaves over head. Only my memories will bother me now. She thought grimly.

She was saved from brooding too long by the sight of one of the small children crying beneath one of the large trees surrounding the premises. Curious, she got up to see what the matter was. The little girl choked down a sob upon seeing her and after a moment of being looked at she pointed up. She followed the child's pointing finger to a branch ten feet off the ground, a black cat paced anxiously along it. If she were allowed to use magic outside of school she would have levitated the cat down, but in this case she would have to use more mundane means. Deciding on a course of action she began to walk towards the shed, pausing to look over her shoulder until the little girl followed her.

The shed was full of useful items, from tools to work with in the garden to cast off cages left from previous occupants of the estate. After a moments hesitation she picked up a long piece of rope and an old cat carrier appearing to be in fair condition compared to others that were rotting apart. Walking back to the tree she picked up a square shaped rock nearly the size of her fist and continued on. Setting the carrier down she tied the rock to one end of the rope securely and after hefting it for a moment threw it up at the branch. The little girl gave a cry, thinking that she was aiming for the cat. The rock sailed over the branch; to the left of the cat, and fell back to earth, now it was draped over the branch. She moved the rope up so that the rock would drop down then grabbed it when it was within reach. Untying the rock from the rope first she then made a noose like knot and tightened it so that it strangled the branch. After tying the handle of the carrier to the end of the rope she jerked it a couple times before climbing up.

When she pulled herself up she noticed with a trace of humor that the cat did not looked too pleased with all of the movement she had made when climbing up. Smiling faintly she drew the carrier up and opened the door then began coaxing the cat inside. Unfortunately the cat did not want to be rescued, at least not in this fashion. A few scratches later she grabbed the miserable black by it's scruff and shoved it unceremoniously into the carrier and shut the door with a snap. She lowered it slowly to the ground where the little girl waited anxiously to snatch the carrier out of the air to release her abused cat. With her cat safely on the ground with all four paws the little girl looked up at her and smiled.

"I'm Lina, thank you for saving Goblin for me, Topaz."

She smiled down at her and answered, "You're Welcome."

Lina beamed up at her and then turned on her heel and ran off in a flapping of robes to the front of the building; Goblin a step behind her. Topaz watched them run off and stayed up in the tree a while longer, her Muggle clad legs straddling the branch. One of her quirks was her fondness for Muggle clothing; it was much easier to go tramping about in the wild in a pair of pants than in a robe. Her mother had been Muggle born and the one to introduce Topaz to Muggle fashion. Her father hadn't approved…

"Are you going somewhere?"

"No, what gave you that idea?"

"Topaz is dressed like a Muggle, why?"

"Oh, that? She just likes them better than her robes."

"No child of mine is going to look like a damn Muggle, make her change them, now."

"Roger-,"

"No! Change her now, stupid bitch. And get me some more Fire-whiskey."

"Alright. Alright, I'm going."

Dinners there were pleasant enough, the younger children chattering to themselves or to the Matron about what they did that day, what there were going to do and so on and so forth. The Matron was a wonderful listener, smiling and laughing and asking questions at all the right times. Topaz didn't speak at meals, eating her food quietly and then leaving for her room when she was done. This bothered no one, she was a presence at the table to be ignored unless one needed the salt or pepper and the wordless compliance troubled no one. Catching the Matron's eye she picked up her dishes and excused herself, dropping the dishes off in a basin in the kitchen before heading up the stairs to her room.

Thankfully she had her own room; the younger children had to share. She plopped down on the bed and picked up a book from the small table beside it. A book she borrowed from the library, it followed the misadventures of a Muggle named Marvin. She loved to read, at first it was an escape but now it was more of a warm, cozy feeling when she picked up a book and lost herself in it. She sat there engrossed in the novel for hours before she turned her head to look at the clock, which showed the time to be well after nine o' clock. With a sigh she marked her place and put away the book and went over to a small writing desk strewn with parchment and a text book. Sitting at the desk she worked steadily on her summer homework for more than an hour before retiring. She was almost done with all of it; the summer vacation would be ending in little more than a month.

Towards the end of August the Matron, the gardener, and the resident nurse/psychiatrist all became very, very agitated. It was because of the recent events that happened at the Quidditch World Cup. After the game a group of wizards wearing masks, supposedly Death Eaters, started to terrorize the Muggle family and anyone who interfered. The Dark Mark later showed up above the tops of a nearby stand of trees, which caused the masked wizards to flee the area immediately. Several people had died in the small forest. Had the Dark Lord returned? It was painfully obvious that the adults were worried sick; the younger children, which is to say all of them, knew nothing. She only knew because she had accidentally run into them talking about it. They had given her the newspaper, The Continental Press, telling her to keep it from the others. They were too young to trouble about something that could be a fluke. In later articles, there were no culprits caught yet. It seemed the Brit's were doing close to nothing to catch them. Their ministry and the papers assured everyone that it had nothing to do with Voldemort, only a couple disgruntled Death Eaters causing a ruckus on their own. Whatever the case, it boded dark things to come. At least that's what the gardener kept muttering, but to Topaz it didn't warrant that sort of fear.

She packed away the last of her books and robes in her trunk, tomorrow she would be leaving for Borealis Institute. Pulling on her pajama bottoms and lying down a thought occurred to her: it would be odd not going home during Christmas and Easter vacation…

He stumbled in through the front door reeking of alcohol. He muttered oaths and threats and complaints under his breath and he tottered towards the bathroom. Her mother picked her up and carried her up to her room, telling her to be good and quiet. They both froze as his voice rose to a roar, "I'll kill you, you cheating whore! I'll rip your fucking heart out!"

They heard him quiet down, but still audible as a low grumble. A sudden crash and then everything was quiet. They both strained to hear more, but nothing. Her mother let out a sigh of relief. Her mother looked into her wide, scared eyes and smiled sadly. She brought her to her lap and held her close, murmuring in her ear, "It's alright, he doesn't mean it, he's just drunk, dear-heart. It's alright, it's okay."

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So that was officially chapter one! Kinda short I know, but I thought it was a good place to stop, leave you hanging you know. (If anyone is reading this…) So, what are your guesses about the story so far? Opinions? Criticisms? Comments? Review please! Until next update, Aufwiedersehen!

The Illustrious Author,

Apara