Serpents and Muggle-Borns

Serpents and Muggle-Borns: Year 1

Chapter 2: Maroon Train Melodies

Astrea Von Hurston

The scenery flickered past, occasionally bringing Tracey's gaze with it as they drove by many places, on their way to getting her school supplies. She could not suppress the grin that formed on her lips, glancing at the information packet lying beside her, with directions to a pub that would lead them to where they needed to be.

She wondered how many other people were attending this school.

Were there only a few very special people who had brilliant powers, and they all were apart of a secret and small society? Tracey shrugged the worry and curiosity off her mind, wanting to focus on more important things.

The ride was certainly peaceful, Celine was reclined in her seat, reading a book about the independence of women. Caldwell was tuning through stations with his left hand, the steering wheel in his right, glancing back and forth between the road and the stereo.

"Are we almost there?" Tracey asked, bouncing on the seat in excitement.

"Nearly," Caldwell muttered, still unable to find a decent station.

"Caldwell, make a decision, please," her mother sighed, placing a mark

in her book, she closed it and set it aside.

Her father finally found a station he liked, taking his hand away from

the radio, he placed it beside his other hand on the wheel and tapped his fingers to The Ramones.

Celine sighed again at his choice of music, shaking her head. She did not approve of the song that played, the subject of it being "lobotomy". Tracey chuckled lightly, then gasped when she saw what street they were on.

"We're nearly there," she exclaimed, clapping her hands in excitement.

"What is this place called?"

"The Leaky Cauldron, Mum," Tracey answered, examining the text, then her head shot up again. "Stop!"

Her father hit the brakes in surprise, sending everyone forward, courtesy of the sudden stop. Luckily, there were no cars behind them, which meant that an accident was fortunately avoided.

"Can I park the car?" Caldwell asked irritably as he gripped the wheel, the man didn't enjoy being frightened.

"Yes," Tracey replied brightly.

Mr. Davis pulled the car into a space, then took his seat belt off and turned to Tracey.

"Okay, so where is this place?" Celine said, glancing around the crowded streets.

Tracey looked out her window and examined the streets determinedly, her eyes passing over from an old bookshop to a record store, but something had caught her eye. Shaking her head, she examined the place between the bookshop and record store again, gasping when she saw the sign of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Found it!" Tracey jumped out of the car, followed by her weary looking parents.

It was tiny and old, not as rich and elegant as she presumed it would be. No, it did not reach the expectations of a "famous" pub. Tracey hauled her parents toward it, both of them looking quite confused, and brought them inside. Even the inside was dark and full of what she expected were hags... maybe. This was the wizarding world. Looking around and seeing all of the people there, Tracey came to the conclusion that this magic society wasn't as small and humble as she had guessed.

Her father, this time, took both young women to the bar, where an old bald bartender was cleaning a glass with a rag, humming to himself.

"Excuse me, sir," her father called, both hands set on the counter, Tracey on his left, Celine on his right.

"Yes?" the old man asked, setting both the glass and the rag down.

"We're trying to get to Diagon Alley," he stated, looking through the packet to make sure he was correct.

"Muggle-born, eh?" he looked at Tracey with a grin, she returned it with a weak smile.

"Hmm, yes," Celine answered, a look of slight distaste evident on her sharp features.

"Okay, then. Follow me," he told them, obviously this was his thing to do when people like her came into the pub.

"I didn't catch your name," Caldwell said, following him to the back door.

"Call me, Tom, sir," the old man retorted, leading them out to a small alley.

Tracey looked at the trash can, wooden crates, and other things that surrounded them, with a raised eyebrow.

Tom took out a stick and began to prod different bricks on the wall.

Tracey momentarily wondered if this had all really been a joke, her heart sunk at that thought, everything that was happening was a dream come true. Tracey quickly looked up as soon as her mother gasped, what met her sight amazed her.

The brick wall was opening itself up into an archway, it was all real, and she definitely wanted to see more.

Tom gave them a nod as he left, closing the door behind him. Tracey retrieved her school list from her pants pocket before taking her first view of Diagon Alley.

She was definitely not disappointed.

There were magi everywhere, looking through windows, holding bags that jingled as the coins inside hit each other rhythmically, discussing the new broomstick that was coming out, wearing pointed hats and fine robes in different colors. She gazed around, her two eyes not being enough to see all the sights that greeted her. Tracey took a second to look over her list, wondering what she should get first.

"Best we head to Gringotts before getting all the supplies," Caldwell said, his hand on her shoulder as he helped direct her through the crowd.

"Where is it?" Celine asked, holding the information documents.

Tracey looked around them curiously, her eyes wandering from place to place, until she looked up and saw a large building that loomed over the alley. It was as white as snow and seemed to keep the place in shadow, looking dreadfully impressive. Soon they emerged from the crowd and found themselves in front of a set of bronze doors, guarded by what Tracey assumed was a goblin.

The goblin, that was dressed in a gold and scarlet uniform, bowed them inside, allowing them entry. The three reached two large silver doors, just noticing that a poem of some kind was engraved on it.

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

Caldwell paled considerably at the somewhat morbid inscription, he lead them through the two doors and into a sparkling room. It looked expensive and elegant, rich polished floors, walls lined with tall desks where goblins were seated; examining precious jewels, measuring the weight of coins, and all looking impressively busy.

Celine, who had managed to keep her cool, strutted past the many bank tellers, leading the other two, and stopped at an open goblin.

"How may I help you?" he asked, looking slightly disgruntled.

"We would like to make an exchange," Celine retorted, voice clear and proud.

"Pounds for wizarding money," Caldwell added in quickly, making Tracey giggle.

"Hmm... muggles, I presume?" It wasn't exactly a question, more of a statement. He continued on without waiting for a reply. "How many galleons would you like?"

Both her father and mother had read over the information, which included how much a galleon or a sickle was worth in pounds, they practically knew everything. As long as the documents were easily attainable.

"Fifty galleons, sir," her father answered.

Tracey turned toward him gaping. Was the man possibly going mad?

That would be a lot of pounds on their part.

"To start an account," Celine spoke up, glaring at her husband who replied with a sheepish grin.

"Okay, you will need to fill out these forms, I shall be right back," the goblin got down from his seat and walked over to another goblin, they both began to speak in hushed voices.

"How much do you weigh, Tracey? I tend to forget," Celine glanced between the feathered quill she held and a pot of midnight blue ink.

"Err... in pounds?" Tracey inquired, remembering the measuring system her academy had used at the end of the year.

Celine examined the parchment with a closer eye, then nodded.

"Well, then, eighty pounds I suppose," Tracey fingered the hem of her dark green sweater, shooting nervous looks toward the other people in the bank, some of them acknowledging her with disgusted looks.

Tracey's hand moved to her face, thinking that she might have a drool stain on her chin or something, but her father broke her train of thought.

"Here, Tracey, some money for you," Caldwell handed her a small sack of coins, a smile gracing his lips.

"But, aren't you and Mum coming along?" Tracey questioned, eyebrows shooting up.

"Your mother claims drowsiness and she wanted to get a cup of tea while you buy your things," Caldwell answered, immediately receiving a mock glare from his wife.

"Don't go too crazy and don't accept any candy from strangers," Celine scolded as Caldwell lead her out of the bank, his hand on her upper back.

Tracey sighed. She wasn't even used to the wizarding world yet, and she felt like she was already on her own. Exiting the bank and squinting in the sunlight that greeted her, she began on her "quest", examining her list so she knew what she needed to get.

"'Three sets of plain work robes,'" Tracey murmured to herself, stepping away from the bustling crowd into a small dark alley.

Nodding her head as she folded the parchment up and tucked it back inside her pocket, she made her decision to go to the the robe shop first. It wasn't that far anyway. Tracey determinedly headed back into the forest of many witches and wizards, clutching her bag of clinking golden coins, and soon found herself entering Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. She had to admit she was a bit nervous, especially sense she was on her own, but she managed to keep her head high, with a surprising amount of confidence.

A short woman, whom she presumed was Madam Malkin, walked over to her smiling, dressed completely in violet.

"Hogwarts?" she asked right away, for which Tracey was thankful, she felt like she had lost her voice. A nod was her immediate answer.

"Okay, come along in the back, so I can get you fitted," Madam Malkin lead her to a curtained section, that held supplies and a couple footstools where people were most likely measured.

It took some time for her Hogwarts uniform to be fitted, but once she was finished the squat woman directed her back to the front of the shop to wait for her things. Tracey stood at the place where she was to pay for the uniform, arms crossed over the counter and her foot tapping absently.

Tracey heard a bell come from the door as another person entered the shop, and she took a moment to glance back to see who it was. A pale boy with sharp features and a regal stride, that made her confidence look intensely false, sauntered over and stood next to her, nose lifted in the air.

"Hello," he drawled, obviously bored.

Tracey couldn't help but inwardly giggle, he reminded her somewhat of the Howell's on Gilligan's Island. Her face luckily remained impassive as she returned his greeting with a meek "hey".

"Hogwarts?" he asked, smoothing back his heavily gelled white blonde hair.

"Yes," Tracey retorted, fingering her sweater once more, she had never been around someone so... upper-class.

He turned towards her, and she noticed that his eyes were gray. She had always admired rare colored eyes, much like her own, and she couldn't help but be in awe. She was a bit obsessive over eyes, always having to know what eye color people possessed.

"Me, too," he nodded simply, giving a slight yawn, as if letting her know that he was currently very, very bored.

Before Tracey could reply Madam Malkin returned from a back room, carrying some pointed hats along with her uniform. She set them on the counter before her and glanced at the pale boy.

"I'll be right with you, Mister Malfoy," she stated, with a curt nod before Tracey paid for everything and quickly left the shop.

Outside, Tracey stood, looking around at the many people that surrounded her, examining her list to see what else she was in need of buying. Soon, she set off again, to buy her her next set of supplies.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"'The Basilisk's Stare: The Hidden Cure to Werewolf-ism or Just a Death Wish?'" Tracey read aloud softly, standing in the back of Flourish and Blott's and looking through a magazine called The Quibbler.

Tracey was slightly taken aback by the fact that werewolves existed, and felt a sudden impulse to learn more about them. Setting the magazine back onto the rack beside Witch Weekly, she began to look around for books on the interesting subject. It took quite a while but soon she found a rather large section all about werewolves. Tracey ran a finger along the dusty spines, skimming over the titles, and hoping something would catch her eye.

Soon enough, one book did. It was dark green and the title glowed in the color silver, she pulled it out gently, as if the book was too precious to be taken out any other way. One Hundred and Two Facts About Werewolves, it read, featuring a moving picture of a howling wolf, sitting in front a of giant full moon. She nodded to herself, definite that she would get this as well, she had enough money anyway.

After paying for all her books, Tracey exited the shop and looked around for a wand shop, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. The cobblestone ground seemed to lead her eyes straight to a store, and then a sign.

"Ollivander's Wand Shop," Tracey murmured, slowly making her way across the small road, occasionally bumping into people on the way.

The shop was dark and creepy, in a mysterious way, and as she entered through the door she could hear a faint ringing from somewhere in the back. A man with gray hair and equally dark fathomless eyes approached her from nearly out of nowhere. She jumped in surprise, giving a nervous chuckle and weak smile, his grin was a bit scary, too.

"Tracey Davis," he spoke in a soft voice, dark gray eyes penetrating black, she could almost feel him reading into the depths of her soul.

Tracey unconsciously shivered.

"And you are, sir?" she squeaked.

"Just call me Mr. Ollivander, Ms. Davis," he replied, getting out some measuring tape and with a point of the wooden stick he held, it began to examine the distance between her finger tips.

"What is your wand hand?" he inquired, flicking through a notebook from behind the counter.

"Uh, I suppose I am left handed," Tracey answered nervously, going cross-eyed as she watched the tape measure between her nostrils.

"Okay, that shall be enough."

The charmed object fell down to the ground, as if the earth's gravity had been turned back on.

"Okay, let us begin with an ebony and dragon heartstrings, six and a half inches. Quite good for charms," he said all this quickly as he shoved a wand into her pale fingers.

Cautiously and rather unsure of what to do, Tracey gave it a feeble wave, but Ollivander just took it out of her grasp. He shook his head as he got another box.

"Willow and unicorn hair, fourteen inches. Flexible." She was handed the wand, but yet again, it did not work.

"Yew, unicorn hair and phoenix feather, seven inches. Quite an interesting combination, one of my only wands with a combined core," Mr. Ollivander explained, and as soon as she grasped the wand, a soothing heat traveled through her body.

Tracey waved the wand and a shower of green and black sparks came shooting out. Ollivander grinned, apparently pleased that the wand had received an owner.

"The wand chooses the witch or wizard, I always say," he stated, shaking his head, eyes sparkling with slight amusement.

She followed him as he headed to the counter where she was to pay for her wand. He placed it in a cherry wood box with indecipherable signs carved along the sides. After she paid for her wand she left the store, giving her list one last examination.

It said she could get an animal, she had enough money, plus, it wouldn't even have to live at her parents house, she would be keeping it at Hogwarts most of the year... Tracey grinned mischievously, that day she would finally get the pet she had always wanted.

Not a minute later, the young girl entered the Magical Menagerie, which was quite loud from all the different animals. She looked around, grimacing as she saw an orange ball of fluff that couldn't possibly be called a cat, its face looked as if it had run into a brick wall a bit too many times.

Walking through the aisles, she didn't find anything that caught her interest until she felt a slim cat rub itself along her legs, purring contentedly. Tracey looked down and gasped at the beautiful feline. It was a slender cat with pure black fur and the most beautiful violet eyes. She kneeled down to pet the cat, which meowed its acknowledgment toward her.

"Ah, that's one of our youngest cats, was born in a litter of white kittens, quite a rare one you've got there. About one month old," a shop keeper stood above Tracey, smiling pleasantly.

"Just a kitten?" the black haired girl breathed, smoothing the glistening fur.

"Yes, but it will cost you some shiny galleons," the witch retorted.

"How much?" Tracey asked eagerly, sparing a glance toward the woman, before returning her full attention to the beauty.

The witch gave her the price (I am not exactly sure how much counts as "expensive" in the wizarding world) and Tracey paid for the cat without hesitation and soon stood in the Leaky Cauldron, looking around for her parents.

"Tracey Gwendolyn Davis! Is that a cat?" Tracey reluctantly turned around, biting her bottom lip, the cat meowing in a tone of question which was just too adorable for words.

"Now I have never seen a kitten quite like that," Caldwell looked closely into the cat's eyes.

"She's rare, Father," Tracey piped up.

"I hope you didn't spend all of your money," Celine gave her daughter a warning gaze.

"I have a few sickles left," Tracey smiled weakly.

"Now come on, Celine, Tracey has always wanted a pet and she still has that well filled up account," Caldwell reminded his wife before she could say anything.

"I got all my supplies, too. Plus, a little extra reading, but it was only one book," Tracey explained, her lame grin becoming a persuading smile.

"Oh, fine," Celine sighed, massaging her forehead. "What's her name?"

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that," Tracey put on a thoughtful look, running through all the names she had read and heard.

"Naia, after the Greek name which means flowing," she immediately spoke up, gazing at her precious feline.

"Well, we shall be returning home now, do you have everything?" Celine asked.

"Yes," Tracey smiled.

As a group, they left the Leaky Cauldron and reentered upon the streets of London.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Are all of your things ready?!" her mother's voice rang through the house as Tracey raced around, long hair in a loose ponytail, hanging down her back in smooth waves after not being dried properly.

"Do you have the train ticket?" Tracey shouted back, temporarily taking the beloved packet out of her mouth as she spoke.

"Yes!" Caldwell called from another part of the house.

Tracey put all of her things away in her trunk. Uniform, hats, books, Naia's fancy new cat bed, and everything else. She slammed the trunk close, completely exhausted.

"Ready?!"

"Yes, Mum!"

Tracey sighed, letting herself fall onto the floor in a heap of defeat.

Rhyme not intended.

Everyone was soon piling into the car, the youngest sitting in the back seat, Naia clutched in her arms, as they pulled out of the driveway.

Tracey could not contain her excitement, turning up the radio as they drove to London, pissing her parents off, and rocking out to Joan Jett.

Caldwell laughed as she began banging her head to the song, making his own mental note to never again give the girl sugar cereal on her first day of school. They drove past buildings, looking for Kings' Cross, and they found it soon enough.

Celine grabbed a trolley for Tracey to load her stuff on and they walked down past the different platforms.

"Which one is it Mum?" Tracey asked, making sure to be careful seeing as Naia was resting on the top of her trunk.

"Um, platform nine and three-quarters?" Celine took her face away from the ticket, surprised.

"Your kidding, there's no such thing," she replied.

"I am well aware of that, Sweetie," Celine said, looking irritable.

They stopped at the barrier between platforms nine and ten, looking around for some kind of help. Tracey jumped when she saw two girls heading in her direction, one of them looked about her age and had a cat on her trunk as well. They were both Chinese, the older one had straight, waist length dark brown hair, and a smug look on her fair attractive features. The younger girl had shoulder length black hair that appeared to be dyed a light auburn brown, her skin tan and lightly freckled around the nose, which was upturned.

The two looked quite upper-class, as well. Tracey assumed that they had to be sisters.

"Excuse me," Tracey called to them as they approached.

"Yes?" the older girl inquired with a thick Irish accent, raising an eyebrow.

"Could you, uh, help me get on the platform?" Tracey replied, feeling quite nervous now that she had been acknowledged.

"I suppose, but can't your parents help you?"

"Well, no, they're muggles." Tracey indicated her mother and father, who both nodded. The young woman's lip curled up in disgust and without a backwards glance she walked briskly toward the wall and disappeared right after a group of muggles walked by. Tracey was taken aback both by how the girl had looked at her and then by how she had disappeared like that.

"Well, I'm Daphne Greengrass," the younger girl came forward, holding out a hand and smiling, her accent just as thick as her sister's.

"Tracey Davis, so can I get some help?"

"Sure, and good morning Mr. and Mrs. Davis," Daphne gave a polite

nod toward her parents, both of whom were in a state of confusion.

"Thank you," Celine nodded absently, then shook her head and turned to Tracey.

"Now, you have a safe trip, don't get killed, don't be curious, and don't break any rules, okay?" Celine had her hands placed on Tracey's shoulder, who was nodding at each request.

"Yes, Mum," she hugged her mother, then turned to her father.

"I'll miss you, Trace," Caldwell pulled her into a strangling hug and reluctantly let her go.

"Bye!" Tracey called as they left.

"Okay, now that the adults are out of the way, ready to do some magic?" Daphne raised both her eyebrows playfully.

"Yeah, but a question... Why did your sister look at me like that, and why are you helping me when she clearly does not approve of me herself?"

"Quite the questionable one, aren't you? It's because your a muggle-born, and muggle-borns are always stupid, ignorant, and with dirty blood. But I find you as a diamond in the rough, plus, I like your cat," Daphne grinned.

"Um, thanks, I guess," Tracey said.

She looked over the girl's shoulder and her eyes widened at the sight of the cat lounging on the other trunk. It was a kitten as well, slender, and had a beautiful white coat. The fur around the end of its tail and around its small paws was silver, finishing off with brilliant and clear blue eyes.

"Her name is Crystal, what's yours?" Daphne stated when she noticed Tracey's staring.

"Naia, the Greek name for flowing, you could say that she found me," she smiled faintly.

"Well, we better get onto the train, especially before my sister gets suspicious. Now, just run through the barrier," Daphne commanded, then quickly added more at Tracey's horrified look. "Just don't be nervous, you'll get through. You better start at a run, go on, before me."

Tracey took a deep breath and nodded, then gripped her trolley and ran toward the barrier, fearing for her life at that one moment before she passed through, entering platform nine and three-quarters.

She weakly opened her eyes, unaware of Daphne who stood next to her, and a gasp immediately left her lips. There, sparkling in the magnificent sunlight, was a maroon train, the paint gleaming enough to possibly blind her. Children and teenagers surrounded it, either waving out of its windows, or talking to their families.

"Lovely, isn't it?" Daphne's voice broke into her thoughts.

"Quite," Tracey replied, running a hand through her hair that had untamed itself rather well. The straight black mane ended in loose curls, yet her bangs still held themselves linear, falling into her eyes.

"Wow, your eyes are black. Just like Professor Snape's," Daphne commented, managing to confuse Tracey.

"Who's Professor Snape?" she turned to her new friend.

"He's the meanest teacher at Hogwarts, his subject is Potions. Your eyes are just like his, and well, so is your hair. Are you sure your a muggle-born?" Daphne inquired, then made a disgusted face. "Never

mind, Hua, my sister, told me all about him. I don't want to imagine him with a woman."

Tracey giggled as Daphne hid her face from view, making gagging noises.

"So, I look like him?" Tracey questioned, obviously confused.

"Only the hair and the eyes, from what my sister tells me."

"Oh," Tracey said, staring at a crack in the brick wall nearby as she tried to make sense of it.

"He's head of my sister's house, Slytherin, and everyone assumes that he's nice to them, but Hua said that he is really mean to her," Daphne nodded as if that was conformation of his wickedness.

"Should we get a seat on the train?" Tracey looked around as everyone

began to board.

"Oh, yeah, of course!" Daphne slapped her forehead then began to push her trolley along again, Tracey catching up to her.

"What color are your eyes?" she asked.

"You like eyes, don't you?" Daphne laughed, soon joined by Tracey.

"Yeah, I suppose so, my favorite part of the human and animal body," she smiled.

"My eyes are amber, like my sister's," the other girl replied.

"Wow," Tracey breathed. Did everyone in the wizarding world have such nice eyes?

"Yeah, but your eyes can be creepy though, if you want them to be," Daphne stated, causing Tracey to laugh again.

"Good point, I'll remember that. Um, how are we going to get on the train?" Tracey looked around, the platform was emptying quite well, and she had no idea of how to get her trunk through the entrance.

"Please, allow me to help and possibly get myself in trouble," a charming voice answered, as they were approached by a boy who looked maybe a year older than them.

"Who are you?" Daphne inquired, one hand on her hips, the other clutching her trolly.

"Sage Bedeau, at your service. A chivalrous and cunning Slytherin," he bowed deeply, his short hair was a dark auburn brown, the back of it gelled flat, yet a row of spikes stood in the front, the tips dyed blonde.

He returned to his poised stance once more, his dark green eyes glittering with mischief. Tracey gave a weak smile, glancing at the patch on the front of his robes, which deemed a crest with a snake.

"Pleased to meet you, I am Daphne Greengrass, and that player over there is Tracey Davis," Daphne smirked as soon as a light pink blush tinted the other girl's pale cheeks.

"Wonderful, so you needed help with your trunks?" he asked, to which they both nodded. "Okay, best if you both get your cats off, before one of them ends up dead on the ground."

Daphne glared at the smirking Sage as he took out his wand and muttered a few words that Tracey didn't understand. To her amazement, Daphne's trunk began to levitate through the entrance of the train and onto the other side of the door, causing a first year who was passing to trip over it.

He smiled and did the same for her own trunk.

"Do you want to sit with us? We will need an older year to protect us from the other moronic first years," Daphne suggested, as she tried to push Tracey's trunk off her own so she could find a compartment.

"I suppose so, seeing as I am the official outcast of Slytherin," he shrugged before levitating Tracey's trunk from Daphne's, causing said girl to fall back with a squeak.

A few seconds later a disheveled Daphne reappeared, glaring once more at Sage.

Soon, after much hard work and a few more spells from Sage, they all found an empty compartment and seated themselves comfortably. And then, the train began to move.

Daphne got up to open the window fully when her eyes widened and her shocked face turned to Tracey.

"Wait! Wait!" a girl's voice called to the conductor from outside the window as the train slowly worked forward.

Tracey stuck her head out the window and looked down, her eyes widening as well when she saw a girl jogging beneath their compartment.

"Stop!" she called.

Tracey released herself from the window and ran out of the compartment to one of the train exits, her emotions must have been high because the door sprung open as the train gained speed.

"Give me your things!" Tracey called, gripping the railing outside the train.

With a good amount of strength Tracey retrieved the girl's trunk and threw it behind her, then put her hand out again. Right before the train had a chance to disappear, their hands connected and Tracey pulled her in as well. She closed the door in a bout of exhaustion, clutching her chest as her heartbeat slowed down to a normal pulse.

"Th-thanks," the other girl gasped, lying on the floor.

"No-no problem," Tracey stammered as she tried to regain her breathing.

"That was fun... let's do it again," the girl smiled.

Tracey could only let out a halfhearted chuckle before collapsing back onto the floor, immediately surrounded by darkness.