A/N; Harry Potter and the characters and the castle and the whole idea about a magical school and basically almost everything are not mine. I'm just writing the story for fun, not sure how long I would continue this though, so please review! I might write more if people actually enjoy reading my story, just saying =)

Lera's POV

"Hurry up!"

"Tonks! Over here!"

"Aguamenti!"

"Whose house is this?"

"Auror Shacklebolt, the fire! It's not going out!"

"It's Astin and Parissa Drae's!"

"It's too late! They must already be dead!"

The voices and shouts mingled together until she could not distinguish clearly what each person said. Everything was a blur, commotion and chaos reigned. The Aurors were trying their best to put out the fire but the gushes of water directed at the house were doing nothing in stopping the fire. Everywhere she looked, people were running around, shouting orders, casting spells, worry etched on some faces, fury on others. With a loud creaking sound, the roof sagged down, then with a resounding boom, the house collapsed into itself. It was quite some time before the fire died down, only after it had consumed everything in its path, leaving behind just a dark circle of burnt ground and cinders that were once her house.

"We're sorry,"

"We tried our best,"

Several other voices joined in, apologizing, trying to comfort her. Then, the 'pop' sounds of apparition, as the Aurors left to report to the Ministry.

She looked up at the sky, at the hovering Dark Mark, and it suddenly seemed to expand in the sky, till it was all she could see. The snake slithered out of the skull's mouth and fixed its gaze on her, malevolence shining in its beady black eyes. It slithered towards her slowly, and she tried to turn away, tried to run, tried to escape from its evil stare, but found that she could not. Her body felt like stone, her eyes continued staring into the depths of the snake's eyes, panic and fear washing over her like an unstoppable wave. She screamed within her mind, desperate to turn away from the eyes of death, but there was nothing she could do. She looked on, enraptured, and now the snake was merely a foot away. It hissed menacingly, and a forked tongue flickered out, as if tasting the air, relishing her fear. It opened its mouth, fangs glinting with a green glow, and a drop of venom fell to the ground. Its head was as large as her own, its mouth bottomless, a dark abyss lay beyond its fangs, ready to swallow her up and cast her into oblivion. Then without warning, as fast as lightning, the snake struck out at her.

She jerked awake, heart pounding fiercely, cold sweat mingling with the tears that had run down her cheek. Her legs were tangled in her bedcovers, her pillow flung away from her bed, lying on the cold stone floor; she had struggled much throughout the night. There was a sharp pain in her palms, and she knew without looking at it that it was from the cuts where her nails had dug into her palms. This was not the first time. She reached for her wand on her bedside table, her hands shaky, almost dropping her wand. She managed to choke out a 'Lumos', and felt slightly relieved as light flooded the room. The clock told her that it was five in the morning. She looked away, it was useless trying to sleep again, and looked down, staring at the moon-shaped cuts on her palms. Immense hatred burned through her veins as tears pooled in her eyes and fell down her face to fall on her open palms, a stinging sensation felt each time a tear met an open wound.

"They would pay," she vowed, "Yes. They would pay for all the pain they have caused."

A glance at the clock informed her that she had been lost in her thoughts for about an hour, so she got up and threw open the curtains. The sun was just rising, bathing the field outside her window in a golden glow. Light glinted off the surface of the lake, fine ripples dancing across as a breeze blew past. Birds flitted across the sky, carefree, chasing each other, sometimes swooping down to grab a bug flying above the long grass. It was a cheerful scene, one in direct conflict with the inner turmoil she was experiencing. She felt disconnected from the world, which was going on as per normal, heedless of the pain and suffering that blanketed the British community…

But enough about that. She mentally shook her head to clear her mind of such dark thoughts.

Today was an exciting day, it was the day of the Opening Feast. She was excited to open the new chapter of her life, for she had spent most of the past 16 years of her life in her home, with little contact with the outside world, and even less contact with those of her same age. Her only companions were the house elves, her parents, the tutors they sometimes hired for her, and recently, her pet golden retriever. While she loved all of them dearly, except for her stuffy tutors whom she nevertheless respected, in the past, she could not help wishing that she had the opportunity to make friends with other teenagers. The only times when she could talk to people her own age where during charity dinners or social parties that her family was often invited to. But while this prospect undoubtedly held much attraction to her, what she was most excited for was to start on her studies. She mentally winced at the way it made her sound like a bookworm, something she had once looked down upon, but justified to herself that she had a motivation few others had. She was not studying merely for the sake of learning, or because there was nothing else she could do, she was gaining practical knowledge to use against the Dark side, she was working hard so that her parents are avenged and would be able to rest in peace.

Or at least she hoped that Hogwarts would prepare her enough to make a difference in the upcoming war. Her father had often told her about the deteriorating standards of the education in Hogwarts, especially in the area of Defense Against the Dark Arts, which he had thought was of paramount importance. That was the reason he insisted that she was home-schooled, he felt that he would be able to do a better job preparing her for the real world. The previous year was more than enough evidence for this. Instead of believing Harry Potter and Professor Dumbledore that Voldemort had returned and helping the wizarding community protect themselves and prepare for the battle that was sure to come, the Ministry had spent the whole year trying to make them look like an attention-seeking brat and senile fool. An entire year of Defense had been lost to memorizing textbooks and listening to that joke of a teacher Umbridge. She, on the other hand, had undergone an intensive training under the watchful eyes of her father, learning about both offensive and defensive spells that could make the difference between life and death in a real duel. Of course, she had also been taught other topics, covering both the required syllabus, as well as ways in which the knowledge can be integrated into dueling. Her father was a Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms expert, her mother had a talent in Potions and Ancient Runes; between them and the tutors she had in Arithmancy and Transfiguration, she had received an education as fine as any could be.

"At least I can self-study if the teachers are useless again," she told herself. Though she had little hope of the teachers being of much help, the library in Hogwarts would be an invaluable resource; she expected it to contain an extensive selection of books and manuals. If they proved to be inadequate, she could send an owl to Gringotts to retrieve a select few books from the Drae family vault. It was fortunate that her father had the foresight to store the rare manuscripts in their family vault rather than in their home. As for hands-on practice, her father had told her of a special room in Hogwarts, called the Room of Requirement, and as its name suggested, would provide her with anything she needed. She smiled to herself in pride, there was little her father did not know about, with his extensive network of contacts and information passed down through generations of the Drae family. It was no wonder that Voldemort had tried once and again to gain the support of her family. Yet to no avail. Her family had always been, and still was, firmly on the light side. It was obvious that once Voldemort had realized that they would never turn over to the dark side, he had them killed to deprive the light side of a powerful ally. He had managed to kill her parents, but by a stroke of luck, she had gone out on that day and had thus escaped death.

"Well," she smirked, "He had angered the wrong family this time."

With that thought firmly in mind, she set off to pack her belongings into a bag. When the night ended, she would be sleeping in a different place. There wasn't much to pack and she soon cleared up the room. With much time to spare before the other students returned, she got up to walk around the empty grounds for one final time. Soon, the castle would be hustling and bustling with activity and she would no longer have the chance to walk in silence.