Adelaidaline Jujuvitz

"You can't beat me. You know you can't, Adelaidaline. Give up."

Adelaidaline looked up into his shallow, red eyes. She would never give up. She whipped a cold, silver dagger from her waist and thrust it into his gut. All of a sudden, her grasp unlocked and she retreated slightly, only to return to the handle that had become blazingly hot. He watched her face harden, her bright green eyes glow red. She concentrated with every fiber within her being. She soon felt her body weaken. Her energy was leaving her. She started to slip away.

He gripped her fists and pushed them away from himself, drawing the sharp knife from his abdomen. He slowly turned the dagger to point at his opponent, watching her face slowly turn from brave to tired defeat. Quickly he thrust the blade into the young heart of Adelaidaline Jujuvitz.

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"Miss Adelaidaline Jujuvitz?"

"Yes?"

"Miss Jujuvitz, I have grave news. The bodies of your parents were found in their house this morning under the Dark Mark."

Adelaidaline stared up at the man speaking to her. He was tall and thin, with dark hair. He looked like her father, but she had never seen her father look as sad as this man did right then and there. And, she realized, she never would. She slowly sank into the seat next to her and looked down at her folded hands. The man politely looked away as a tear rolled down Adelaidaline's young cheek.

After a minute he turned back to the young girl who was still crying, her eyes darting around the floor. "Miss Jujuvitz, their will requested you be sent to live with your aunt in Europe. Your Aunt Lydia?"

Adelaidaline nodded in compliance. Lydia was her favorite aunt, but she knew it would be far from life in America with her parents. The man held out a hand and helped her to her feet. He walked her out of the New Years Party being hosted by her friend Jerald's parents, listening as many happy people started to count down from ten seconds to one. By the time the sound of cheers, the clinking of champagne flutes, and the pop of crackers had reached Adelaidaline's ears, her companion's lit wand was in the air, and the Knight Bus came to a halt right in front of her. They boarded the bus, and Adelaidaline walked up to the third floor, not paying attention to anything but her thoughts. An orphan by the age of ten. Now what?

_=_

"What about school? Where will I go?"

"A highly recommended academy. Tell me, Adelaidaline, have you ever heard of Hogwarts?"

"No," and from the sound of the name, this was going to be even more unpleasant than she had anticipated.

"Really? It's quite well known. Well, anyways, you won't be attending there for some time. Not until other training has been completed."

"Other training?" What other training would they be having her go through?

"Yes, your aunt wishes to train you otherwise before your attendance at Hogwarts, which will begin at age sixteen. You will be tutored and home schooled in the meantime. Clear?"

Sixteen? Six more years? Adelaidaline looked up into Mr. Laughlin's strict face. "Crystal."

_=_

Adelaidaline never really pictured herself the type of girl to be dropped off on a distant relative's (however close personally) doorstep in Britain, with a note pinned to her coat and a single suitcase in her hand. She placed her belongings on the step and knocked on the door. After a few minutes waiting, the door swung open to reveal her Aunt Lydia for a split second, before she was engulfed in a tight hug.

"Laidy, how are you? I'm so sorry you've had to go through all this, and at such a young age! Oh, come in, dear; let me make you a cup of tea! And you must be tired, too. Take a nap if you wish," her aunt rushed on. She was ushered into the foyer of the white brick house. Aunt Lydia took her black trench coat from her and gave it to a house elf waiting patiently nearby. She then brought Adelaidaline into the dining room and made her some hot tea. They sat down and talked for some time.

_=_

"Protection?"

"Yes, it's for your protection. You'll have a good defense."

"Why do I have to learn to fight? Why can't I just have a body guard?"

"Because, Adelaidaline, there are some things a body guard just can't do."

"Really? Like what?"

"That doesn't matter right now." Adelaidaline hated when adults said this. It obviously mattered to her right now, otherwise she wouldn't have asked it.

"Fine. What will I be learning to fight?"

"Many things."

"Like what?"

"...You'll soon see," her aunt said, clearly meaning that this part of the discussion was over. "Now it is time for you to go to bed."