"I'm a sworn enemy of convention. I despise the conventional in anything, even the arts."

Hedy Lamarr

Angrily, Athelinda had no choice but to do as she was told.

Dressed in robes and a gown of black silk with white French lace trimming, She allowed her hair to fall loose and flowing, after curling it up. The black tresses fell down her back as silky as ever. She looked at her mirror. She tried smiling, but even though her lips, a natural deep cherry-red, rose up, her black eyes glinted menacingly.

She knew who would be there. She had reviewed the guest list. She knew their names: Lestrange, Black, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Rookwood, Avery, Malfoy- many of them were pure-blood maniacs.

How she loathed them. And now to have them entering their home, when by all means, their ideals should be stamped out and opposed violently…

They were a threat to them all. And now to enter their grounds…

But she knew that they would not harm them. The reason for this: they were sycophants and pure-blood maniacs. Thousands of years ago, Atlanteans performed magic that would enable their descendants to be pure-blooded Atlanteans in spite of intermarriage and so forth. There were no squibs produced in any of the clan's families. Even if they married Muggles. And of course, to safeguard such atrocities, those fools would be edging their sons forwards to Athelinda in hopes of an engagement. And not to mention they were one of the wealthiest families in Europe, with powerful connections. So….

Lead on, she thought bitterly, as she left her room.

The ballroom would be lavishly decorated in style. The guests were certain to be impressed, even the most snobbish and entered the ballroom and she noticed everyone turning to glance at her. She understood her father's reasons but at the same time, she wanted to scream: How could you do this?!

Someday she would never have to do anything like this again- someday, pure-blood fanatics would never be a threat.

Black silk embroidered with pearls flowed in a graceful train behind her, and a shower of diamond stars. There was white lace on her bodice. A black diamond graced her throat on a matching velvet choker. Her hair had diamonds woven in and a coronet as well.

She made quite a sight.

As she should.

Regally holding her head high, she was determined that if she should socialise with snobs who would look down on her differences and beliefs- the ones that would laugh at all her ideas, she would be snobbish to them in return.

Athelinda knew that with her majority not far away- only a few more years- many of them were looking for the opportunity to secure their bloodlines by marrying into an ancient Atlantean line.

They would be severly disappointed. Athelinda would change the world, and not in the way they wanted.

Drinks were served all around. Champagne, martinis, firewhiskey, butterbeers, elf-made wine, brandies and mead, served up in their most prized crystal glasses. She loathed the idea that they were serving their best crystal to these maniacs. If only they could poison them.

Athelinda sniffed and went to find her brother. At least she could enjoy some company. Her other brother and sister too.

He was waiting for her. True enough, there were a gaggle of girls hanging onto him. They didn't need to be pushed by their families- Rhaegar was one of the handsomest young men they had ever seen, if not the handsomest. They were so unimaginative- so shallow.

"Athelinda," Rhaegar drew himself upright. "Rhaegar, Greengrass, Avery," she acknowledged the girls coolly. "How do you find the party?"

Her brother raised an eyebrow at her stiffness, but he knew full well, why she was like that. But he needed to remind her of the need to be polite to their guests.

Her mood soured further.

"The party's fine," Rhaegar said. "I rather like it." He shot her a warning look. "In fact these girls were just telling me."

"Yes," one of them, Lucretia Greengrass gushed. "The whole place is… breath-taking," she breathed out the word, and Athelinda could see that she was sincere. Her mood softened.

"I love the decorations," gushed Megaera Avery.

"And I especially love the way the whole place is lit," Lucretia finished.

"I'm glad," Athelinda said. "And I'm glad you could make it- many people will be staying at school."

"Yes, including Tom," Megaera said regretfully.

"Yes, he's staying as well," Athelinda said. "Someone has to make sure the Slytherins are behaving alright and help poor old Sluggie."

The girls giggled. "You know he likes you," Lucretia pointed, eyes gleaming.

Athelinda took a step back. "What?!"

The girls giggled harder. "We saw him, trying to talk to you before you left. And again watching you during the Duelling club. No wonder he lost to you- although you were amazing," she breathed to Rhaegar.

Athelinda blinked. "Just because Tom Riddle watched me duel and said some words before I left, does not mean he likes me," she said irritably. She was annoyed. Typical girls, no wonder their studies suffered. She should recommend them to Tom or Rhaegar for tutorials, she thought. She was annoyed now, even further.

Rhaegar tried to stifle a smile. "I think I would know if Tom Riddle fancies my sister," he said. "Merlin's beard, where did you get that idea?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Megaera said giggling. "We saw him, looking at you, many times."

Athelinda was shocked. But not because she thought Tom Riddle fancied her. She wasn't a fool. This was not the type of boy to have had any attraction to anyone. She might not have been an expert at gossip, but she knew that he had never bothered to take a girlfriend.

Not even Florence Balcroft, Lucretia Greengrass, Megaera Avery and Irma Crabbe. Not any of the girls who drooled upon his parchment and gazed inanely at him, just like they did to Rhaegar.

She knew people had hoped he would get together with Griselda Penrose- but they never did. Tom was courteous- that was all. He never took a great deal of interest in girls for romance.

And she was heavily suspicious of him. Why was he taking such an interest in her? And didn't Professor Slughorn say that he had recommended her for prefect?

Her eyes narrowed. Something smelt fishy.

"Well, girls even if Tom Riddle liked me, I have work to do," she said breezily. She sniffed. "I am Slytherin prefect and I have ambitions that don't stop at school and the marriage home. Domestic life is only the end of the road, after a long journey- and I intend to keep it that way."

"That's my sister," Rhaegar said approvingly. "Not letting convention stop her dreams and plans for the future."

"Indeed." Willamar appeared behind them.

"I know she has some excellent plans for this world and it would be a shame to waste them."

Willamar's dark eyes registered something that signalled to Athelinda that he had some bad news to tell. He was normally left unseen in large gatherings such as this; he preferred to keep to himself in such formal circumstances, unlike his sister who loved formality- and he was slightly less noticeable than his elder brother who was worshipped by girls and idolised by men.

"What is it?" she asked quizzically. Willamar took a deep breath.

"Ladies," he acknowledged. "May I borrow my brother and sister for a moment, I have some grave news to tell."

And with that, heart filling with dread, both Rhaegar and she exchanged glances at each other before leaving for the kitchen- wait, they were on their way to the cellars.

"What is it?" she asked impatiently. "Willamar, what's happened?"

Willamar took a deep breath. "Feodora Williams is dead."

A lightning bolt of shock hit her. No, it couldn't be….

Feodora was a Hufflepuff student, a fifth-year, whom Athelinda actually liked. She was a Muggle-born, and very helpful and friendly to everyone. She was well-liked by the majority of the school, discounting the Pure-blood elitists. To hear that she was dead…. "No," she breathed.

Rhaegar stood frozen like he had gone through the same experience. His face drained of colour. "How?" he whispered.

Willamar took a deep breath. "Her parents found out. They're a superstitious bunch and they were involved in some sect or cult. A cult, I believe. And they actually witnessed her one way or another and, well, they burned her."

Rhaegar felt as if the life had been knocked out of him. "Burned her?" he exclaimed, aghast and more horrified than he had ever been.

"Burned," Willamar confirmed gravely. "I liked her enormously. She was one of the kindest people I'd ever met." For the first time Athelinda saw tears shimmering in her brother's eyes.

"But they'll catch them, won't they?" She blurted. "Murder is illegal for Muggles as it is for us, they won't let them get away with this! Even Muggles would know if a crime was committed and an underage child had disappeared or been killed."

But Willamar shook his head. "Don't get your hopes up," he said. "The Ministry doesn't want the Muggle police to find out- it could mean our exposure in involving themselves with a crime such as this- and it's looking the other way- they're side-lining it, focusing more on covering it up rather than risking people finding out and more support for Grindelwald in this country and abroad."

Athelinda was speechless. She couldn't believe it.

Feodora was one of the kindest people there ever was. And now they were covering up a crime, simply to ensure their own power was not threatened? This was not the way to deal with such things! If they wanted to show the world they were worthy of support, they could have brought those heartless monsters to justice. Instead, if and when this story leaks out…

Was it any wonder, she thought, that Grindelwald was gaining more and more support? The Ministries were corrupt- more interested in securing power, importance and wealth rather than doing any actual good in the world. More interested in keeping the peace and hiding ugly truths than solving the problems themselves.

And the only other alternative was through monsters like Grindelwald who employed dark magic the way people used washing water? Who advocated the extermination of Muggle-borns?

The world was a sick place.

A long time ago, it wasn't like that. A long time ago, there was a man, Arthur, they called him, although he was little more than a boy when he first started. He had a younger sister and a mentor. And together they ushered the greatest era of peace and prosperity, where fear was a stranger and hunger was unheard of. Where the greatest advancements in modern magic started and achieved ground-breaking levels. Where people were groomed to rise to new heights above the stars, and the world knew their name and revered them. Where Muggles did not despise anyone who was simply born with magic, including their own children, and lived side by side, happily, no less, with them. It was the time of Camelot.

But Camelot had faded nearly a thousand years ago when Morgause's son Mordred rose up against Arthur and tried to kill him. Mordred died, but although it was simply meant to have been an overthrow and not total destruction, the Age of Camelot was over and Merlin, Arthur and Morgana knew that they could not stay. So they left for Avalon, where Muggles would believe Arthur would return from and whereupon a prophecy was given to the wizards and witches of Britain, that one day, the golden age of Arthur Pendragon would return. And it would stem from the roots where Arthur sprung. She believed it.

But how long did they have to wait? It was a maddening thought.

How many hundreds of years, until Arthur's descendants made their move? Was it when the wizards and witches were nearing annihilation? She thought angrily.

She stormed out of the cellar and kitchen without a word.

She stormed to her bedroom, slamming and locking the door.

Muggles. She didn't hate them all, but there was no justice in them being so dominant, whereas their people suffered. There was no fairness at all in the way the Ministry had gone weak and corrupt and other ministries worldwide were following the same pattern.

And the only option was a monster and a lover of Dark Magic, like Grindelwald.

She wanted a society where everyone would hold their heads high. And it was a society no one was going to get.

The sickening feeling appeared, and so did a green snake head. It crept from its hollow and slithered all the way to rest comfortingly on her arm, as if sensing her distress, slithering all the way up, gently nudging her head with his, where she sat on the floor, with her hands around her knees.

She looked up. Tears blurring her vision, she saw that it was Vasuki. A favourite friend. She smiled through her tears.

"Hello, my dear," she hissed in Parseltongue. "Just when I needed you. Your comfort is greatly appreciated. I have missed you."

The snake hissed in return. "I thought you would have forgotten me. Your House-elf does not like me, or any of us for that matter," his tail flicked slightly.

Athelinda sighed. "I am sorry about that, you know. She just isn't used to us and out ways- she's scared she might get bitten. And she wants to clean the room which she very well cannot since you are still here when she arrives. Maybe I should set an assigned cleaning time, and then you would all leave and come back at twilight."

"Maybe," the snake responded. Vasuki flicked out his forked tongue. "Come, the others have missed you," he slithered away.

Athelinda smiled and got up. In her room were several large urns and vases. Opening a lid, she hissed and cooed softly in Parseltongue. Soon enough, a pale snake head emerged, followed by her slithering body. Athelinda smiled. Manasa emerged. She held out a hand, extending it slowly and smoothly, the way snakes liked. Manasa slithered on it, curling up comfortably.

Soon enough she lifted more lids and whispered softly in more vases. The snakes, one by one, all came out. There were dozens of them. A number were small, but she had one large one.

Surasa slithered from her urn. She occupied the largest, simply because she was the largest; her coils could wrap around a tree-trunk more than twice. Surasa hissed in joy when she saw Athelinda. She slithered to her, nuzzling her affectionately.

Athelinda beamed. "Words cannot describe how happy I am, in this moment," she said softly. With the snakes she forgot about her troubles.

Surasa rubbed her head against her leg. "Something troubles you?" she asked.

Athelinda sighed. "The world is a horrible place." Surasa looked at her, unblinking.

Athelinda sighed again and proceeded to tell her about what had transpired. Surasa, and the smaller snakes all slithered around her, wrapping and coiling themselves everywhere, knowing she needed their comfort. She loved them.

She did not see the fear other people had when they encountered snakes- they were like humans. They were simply afraid of them because they did not understand; they did not understand if a snake was angry, and that a snake would be frightened that they would be attacked by something that could trample them. They were afraid of getting bitten. Well, snakes were afraid of getting crushed, burnt and anything else a human might do to them.

These were the friends the fluttery girls at Hogwarts could never be.

Athelinda had been born different. She had been born in the rainforests of India. Her parents had not known they were expecting when they were called to the aid of another Atlantean clan that resided there. Her mother was a scholar and a teacher of renown, and her father was needed to train young boys to fight against invaders whom she forgot about. The Volsunga had given their permission.

It was on this mission, during a trek in the rainforest, that the couple's baby daughter had been born. After laying her to sleep in a make-shift crib- they had nothing else, and they were stranded- her parents tried to contact others. But while their backs were turned, a being of a magical, powerful, yet unknown kind arrived at the scene. It was a Nagini- a female Naga.

Nagas were beings that were similar to the centaurs and mer-people in the fact that like them, they seemed half human and half animal. It wasn't true. Although centaurs were equine as well as sentient, and mer were fish as well, they were beings and creatures in their own right, not the half-breeds people rudely assumed them to be.

And so were the Naga. They seemed to be half snake in the fact that they were reptilian, and they had a scaled lower body- the torso and tail like a giant snake's. Their eyes were slightly snake-like and they had snake fangs hidden in their mouths, and sharp talons. But they were ambivalent beings and could either be good or evil, the way other beings could. Their language was also Parseltongue, like snakes. And they featured heavily in local stories, being either malevolent- a Muggle's perception, mostly- ambivalent, or wise and benevolent with advice that, if ignored, could cost the receivers great peril.

This Nagini had lost her husband and her eggs had not hatched. She had fallen into despair and when hunting for food had come across a baby girl- a witch-child. In excitement, she had taken the baby, not knowing the parents were still nearby and decided to keep it. Athelinda had known the loving coils of her 'mother's' scaly tail and had drunk drops of her venom before she even tasted milk. Naga venom had legendary, magical properties and it had given Athelinda remarkable powers- one of which was the ability to become a Parselmouth. Another was to will things to happen, set into the future.

She was not a seer- she was far more powerful than that. Seers only speak of what was to come- in other words, they never chose. She could choose.

But the power rarely took effect. She didn't know if there was a pattern to it, and only belatedly realised the power had taken effect when she was saying or deciding something. It rarely ever happened.

And she could never affect her own future- that was the depressing realisation. There were limits to her powers which she did not even understand.

She sighed. Surasa she had named after her Naga mother, although her parents gained her back. She was heartbroken when she learned Surasa had died, and thus named a new snake after her- the biggest of the snakes that she had.

But her power reminded her that she was far from helpless. And thus, she should stop acting as such.

Athelinda stood. She had talent. She had brains. She had power. And above all else she had a will for the world to change. And Camelot will return.

This much, will be.