A/N: Wow, I don't even remember how long it's been since I've updated! So sorry to any of you who are still reading, both for that and for the dismal quality of this piece. The previous chapter was an experiment in a new style of writing, but I tried to go back to my old habits, as I was unsure how I was doing. Huge thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, your kind words really make my day.

Victims come in many guises, so varied, and so sadly plentiful that more often that not, they're not spotted at first glance, nor second, nor third. Then again, labelling someone a victim is hardly correct nor fair and really, aren't we all victims, of some form or another?

Eileen Prince was a victim throughout her life, through no fault of her own. First it was at the hands of her well meaning parents, then her fellow students at Hogwarts and finally, her husband.

She grew up in a household that wasn't what you'd call poor, but not rich either. Somewhere in the middle, with a father who had a menial job at the Minstry of Magic and a mother who had no job, but enough pent up frustration for all of them. Her father had a hook shaped nose which he passed onto his daughter, and she to her son. He wasn't a bad father in the sense that he never beat his daughter or his wife, but to Eileen, he was simply never there. This was something which created within her a sense of isolation she could never quite overcome, although she might have turned out a stronger character if she weren't so sensitive.

Her mother was well meaning, but she had a way of addressing her daughter that wreaked havoc with her emotions, and undermined every sure thought she had, until she was left floundering in a sea of confusion and subsequent anger, unable to even identify why she felt that way at all.

Eileen could hear her now, as though she were standing beside her, and not separated by all the distance daughter had placed between mother (not just miles, you see, but memories, and how feeble time did render them).

"You think you're stressed? Imagine how I must feel!"

"You're always right, I'm always wrong." But I never said that, the defiant, angry part of her wants to shout, you just interpreted it that way.

"Oops, sorry, I forgot that everything has to be right for the 'Princess'!" For all that it was a clever play on words, she couldn't help but wonder, asking a question didn't make her spoilt and selfish like a Princess, did it? Aren't people allowed to speak, without fear of scathing judgments and unspoken accusations? Her insecurities haunt her when she thinks, not you. Don't you know better than to open your mouth? Can't you keep your mouth shut, Princess? You'll just do something wrong otherwise.

Materialistically, her life was the picture of perfection. But this was life, and life is not a pretty picture. Her worries could have been worse, but she was not equipped to deal with them, so something which may have been a mere pebble on her path became the mountain she was too afraid to cross.

After all, if you tell someone something often enough, eventually they'll start believing that themselves. But on the opposite end of the spectrum, you can tell someone something a thousand times, but unless they're willing to hear it, they won't believe you. You cannot see the damage words inflict, but that just makes them all the more dangerous, because who is to say that a flyaway comment might not end a life, or save one?

Hogwarts was supposed to be a place of refuge for this confused young girl, it was supposed to be a place where she could look tired, and not be told she ahd done nothing to feel that way. A place where she could cry because she was sad, and know that the way she felt was justification enough. More than that, it was, she thought, to give her friends. She was not bullied, and that was something, she supposed. It's more that she wasn't noticed, at all. She walked with her head to the ground. She hardly spoke, and when she did, her voice was a timid whisper, as though she thought she had no right to face the world. She wanted to make friends, without a doubt, she just couldn't shake the belief that she didn't deserve any.

She was good at Gobstones, and in time that came to define her. She was made captain of the school club eventually, and although she spoke of it to no one, she felt a fierce spark of pride that she could actually do something right, and that she had been recognised for it.

She just wanted to be valued. To be acknowledged, and wanted, and needed. She knew she was only one person to the world, but as the Muggle saying went, but couldn't she, one day, be the world to even one person? That was her deepest desire, and reflected back at her she saw herself, but not exactly, she saw somebody, instead of nobody.

There were people surrounding her, paying attention, to her. She couldn't see who they were, but that didn't matter, really. It was almost as though they saw something other than the pale, thin, weak-looing young woman she was. She could almost kid herself into believing that this Mirror showed possibility, instead of the unattainable dreams that reside within the hearts of human beings.

"It's okay," she whispered to no one. "You're okay," she whispered to herself, and if only for a moment, she was.

Sticks and stones, she reminded herself, leaving the room filled with hope for a happy future she would never see.

A/N: Love it? Hate it? Please review; it would be greatly appreciated!