Cassiopeia's eyes were glued to the screen, her hands deftly moved the joystick, and the bleep bleep bleep of the arcade game was beating in tempo with her heartbeat. She was so close, she could almost taste sweet victory, and her mind was calm, focussed, in the zone. She let out a satisfied huff as she guided Pac-Man to a pair of cherries, which appeared next to a flashing white dot. The ghosts on the screen changed colour and ran away from her avatar. She hunted them ruthlessly, eating three before they could change back. She was on level 154, and out of lives, one more level and she will be the reigning champion in the whole town, no kid around here had ever gone to such heights of Pac Man, and she was vaguely conscious of the small crowd of kids that were gathered behind her, watching her play this epic game. A coin was sitting on the console; the kid next in line had been waiting a very long time for his turn. She already held the top five high score spots on this machine. She held the top five on every Pac Man machine at every arcade in town (a feat that sounded more impressive than it actually was, there were only three in town). But this, this was a new high for her. She had never beaten this level before.

The arcade was warm and she felt stuffy inside her school jumper, but she didn't dare take the time to remove it, lest she ruin her groove. Her stomach growled and she was fairly certain she should've been home hours ago. She wondered if it was dark outside, but couldn't hazard the risk to look. There, the final dots, her victory was almost complete. She vaguely heard someone call her name, not her real name, but the hideous one the muggles knew her by. She ignored whatever the commotion was, intent on finishing the level. She didn't notice the older kid angrily coming up to her until he grabbed her hand off the red plastic joystick and shoved her away from the machine.

"Oi, freak, I'm talking to you!" the boy shouted. Cassiopeia watched in horror as her game avatar got stuck at a wall and was quickly eaten by a ghost. The end game screen mocked her and the high score prompt snapped her out of her cold shock. She had spent hours working on that game, and it had been completely ruined by Nicholas bloody Bates. Hot anger flashed across her body and she launched herself with a shout of outrage at the older boy, taking him by surprise and causing him to stumble back a few steps.

The small crowd around the machine were split between dismay at the interrupted game, and interested glee at the brewing fight.

"What the hell Bates!" she slapped the older boys chest in time with her words.

He recovered quickly and shoved her back; "You did some of your freaky stuff to my sister Smith." He straightened his beaten leather coat and pointed an accusing finger at her, "She said you threatened her and now all her hair is falling out."

She couldn't help it, a smirk of amusement spread across her face. His sister was a particularly vain sort of creature who took an absurd amount of pride in her Farrah Fawcett hair. It must be killing her to have it falling out in what she hoped was large chunks. Smirking apparently wasn't a reaction the older boy appreciated, because with very little warning a fist connected solidly with her mouth. The tang of blood exploded across her taste buds as Cassiopeia grimaced with annoyance before turning back to the boy. Before she could retaliate the owner of the arcade made himself known by grabbing the boys shoulder and escorting him out of the arcade, berating him all the way.

"This isn't over Smith," he shouted over his shoulder, before he was bodily thrown out.

She wiped her mouth, quickly entered the initial CML into the arcade game and gathered up her belongings. It was indeed dark outside and she was definitely in trouble with her latest 'parents'. The arcade owner was back, looking at her disapprovingly, she was a regular customer at this particular venue, but looking at him now she figured she should maybe move on and take a small break from this particular arcade, she was lucky she had not been banned yet, as the small fights were a fairly common occurrence in her life.

"Alright Reggie, you don't need to say it, I'm leaving." She shouldered her bag and began her walk home.

It was a quiet night, a fresh breeze caused her to pull her school blazer closed and she wrapped her arms around herself. She opened her book bag, pulling a battered cassette player out and searched for her hat. She cursed when she realised it was still in her school locker, she would have to make do without it that night. She clicked on the her tape player, slipped on the headphones, turned the volume all the way up, and began her walk. The arcade was halfway between her school and her current group home, and she passed the time walking home by examining the stars up above. She searched out the Black namesakes, Sirius, Bellatrix, Pollux, and she searched out her middle name, Meissa. It had only been a year since she had been forced out of the wizarding world, but it seemed almost a lifetime ago.

It was hard at first to adjust to the muggle world. Though they had no magic in the traditional sense, their world was run on their own special brand of magic, things like engines, electricity, and radio waves. She found it terrifying, and later fascinating. Everything in the muggle world was powered by science. Instead of Dark Lords and wizarding wars, they had the cold war and nuclear holocaust to worry about. Everything had an explanation in the muggle world, and a whole branch of study was dedicated to it. In fact it was her favourite subject in school, physics. She was also particularly interested in how the electrical parts worked in practice. Luckily there was a teacher at the school, Mr Su who was a font of knowledge of all things technological. So much so he started an afterschool club dedicated to just that. They deconstructed computers, programmed games, and played with HAM radios. There were a few kids in the afterschool club, though none would speak to her directly. Despite this she enjoyed the weekly meetings greatly. In fact it was the only thing she looked forward to in her miserable muggle life.

Her reverie was interrupted as a car pulled up along side her and the Bates boy jumped out of the passenger side door. She glared at him, shoving her headphones off so they hung instead around her neck.

"Sod off Bates, or else your precious hair will be next." She was tired, and she wanted nothing more than to go back to the group home, brew herself a nice strong cup of coffee, and catch up with some reading.

"Are you threatening me?" he knocked her shoulder again.

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, "Is that the best you can do?" she drawled, coming to a stop in front of him and casually putting her hands in her trouser pockets.

"The way I see it, you're the one bleeding and I am fine." He mocked before moving forward quickly and placing another blow on her stomach. She doubled over at the impact, the breath knocked soundly out of her.

"you call that a punch?" she wheezed, "Pathetic. Old Mrs Slater could do better." She coughed, referencing their octogenarian neighbour.

She was ready for his next punch; her left hand hand grabbing his fist as she twisted slightly out of the way while her right hand brought a knife up against his arm. She cut him quickly, deep enough that it would hurt, but not enough to seriously injure him. At first he didn't feel the cut, it wasn't until he saw the blood that he let out a horrified cry as he quickly jumped back. He looked at his arm in shock and disbelief through his now cut jacket and saw the red staining spreading across his shirtsleeves. He looked up at her in panic; his head swam as he watched her delicately flick his blood off her blade. She made eye contact with him and raised her eyebrows.

"Who's the one bleeding now Bates" she sneered.

"You're a fucking psycho." His voice was small and panic lined it, "ill get you for this, freak." She smirked when she saw the unmistakable shine in his eyes; she knew he was holding back tears.

"Run along little boy, and go cry to your friends." She flicked her knife shut and pocketed it, put her headphones back on, and continued walking as if nothing had happened. He let out a whimper before jumping back into the idling car and speeding away.

She sighed deeply; the muggle children did try their best to bully her, to torture her, and to beat her. Most people in her situation would have cracked a long time ago, but they just didn't understand that everything they threw at her was small time in comparison to Bellatrix Lestrange. She fingered the knife in her pocket, remembering the lessons her mother taught her about proper and improper knife use. These muggles had no idea what she was really sparing them in her retaliation, and that knowledge made her feel both sad and ashamed of her past. She was a freak in this world, and was wholly undeserving of friends. She knew it and they could sense it.

Xxx

As expected she was called into the head teachers office the next morning. She sat down heavily, glaring at all the occupants in the room. She had several meetings such as this one, at least a few times a year. She nodded at her legal guardian from the group home, who was currently giving her a murderous glare. "Alright PC Brookes." She flashed a charming smile at her least favourite police officer woman, she answered the smile with a flat stare. Nicholas Bates sat heavily in a chair, his trademark leather jacket was gone, and a long bandage ran along his right arm. He glowered at her lowly, and seated next to him were two very upset adults that she guessed were his parents.

"So that's the little psycho that tried to kill our son" the woman started. Cassiopeia rolled her eyes before taking a seat.

"You're bag miss Smith." With another exaggerated eye roll she handed her bag over to the police constable.

"Anything in here that could hurt me?" she asked, unzipping it. Cassiopeia sat back and smirked, "Hurt you PC Brookes? Like what? I have some sharp pencils? A compass." She said innocently. PC Brookes gave her a look of annoyance and proceeded with her search. "Mr Bates over there has a very interesting story about you Miss Smith." The constable continued her search of the bag. "He seems to think it was you that gave him that nasty cut on his arm. He says you attacked him, unprovoked."

Cassiopeia raised her eyebrows and glanced sideways at the older boy. "Up, empty your pockets Miss Smith." She rolled her eyes again standing to allow the officer search her person. She had left her knife at home, tucked safely under a loose floorboard. It only appeared on her person when she was feeling an extreme emotion, when her magic flared up.

"You're being very quiet Miss Smith. Write down your locker number and combination." The constable gave Cassiopeia her notebook. "Nothing to say for yourself?"

"Of course not, she's guilty. That psychopath should be expelled." It was Mr Bates this time.

Cassiopeia sighed loudly, attempted to blow some of her unruly curls out of her face, "I am nine PC Brookes," she drawled. "Nicholas Bates is fourteen, he is six inches taller than me, and is head and shoulder taller than me." She stated simply, "besides, he doesn't even go to this school anymore." The constable sighed before handing her back her bag.

"Instead of interrupting my education for this, can I suggest that I go back to class. Search my locker, if you find anything incriminating, please come and fetch me but I have exams next week." She shouldered her bag and glanced at the head teacher, waiting for permission. The man was an angry shade of red, he looked at the PC questioning, seeing her resigned nod he jerked his head. She threw a smirk at the Bates, ignoring their outraged protests and went back to her maths class. She really did have an exam next week.