Chapter One

The rain beats heavily against the glass windows in my bedroom. This is the usual lethargic weather that makes us feel sluggish in the morning. I untangle myself from my duvet and get out of bed, my long black-brown hair sticking out in different angles. The thunder becomes louder as I am brushing my teeth and washing my face. I am getting ready for another day at work.

I am eighteen years old and I live alone. Ever since I was eleven, I have lived in a foster home with muggles. Yes, I live in the normal part of London – the part where people do manual labor and think wands are just toys kids play with. I have a wand, a really good one in fact. But it is real. I can cast spells and everything. I was supposed to go to some magical school but things changed and I simply did not go. I was ready to, though. I got a wand and all the necessary school items but my life had changed drastically by then. And it was all because my parents were death eaters.

When I put on something decent, I head out of my apartment and order a latte from a coffee shop nearby. Then, I head off to the library to work. But this is only temporary. When I am ready, I will go to the bigger jobs, the bigger bloody jobs. I sip my latte as I head towards the librarian's desk at the main entrance of the library. No one comes in this early, just me. This library is my sanctuary.

The library is so peaceful and quiet that it is the best place to think. There are no disturbances – no talking in the library. The best corners for privacy can be found here. This is where I usually mull over my successful plans and the soon-to-be successful ones. When one sees me, they might not ever suspect an innocent-looking librarian capable of being much more than just that. I am not just a librarian slash witch. I am a killer.

That makes me smile. I cannot refer myself to a killer, more like avenger. Yes, that's better. I have been holding a grudge since I was eleven years old. I know; it is terribly unhealthy to hold a grudge for so long. Some even become insane but whose fault is that? I have a very good reason why I am holding a grudge. Maybe the sight of my parents' dead bodies scarred me to life. The bloody aurors did not care. What would have they accomplished in killing two death eaters out of so many? Someone betrayed my parents and led the aurors to just them. None of the others were found.

My latte is left untouched as I remember how my life turned out later. No one thought I was alive after my parents' ordeal. Not even fellow death eaters they called friends. What were their names again? Malfoy or something? It was easy for me to vanish out of the wizard world and plan my revenge slowly and carefully. How I learnt magic was simple. I did not need every single thing. I just needed to learn the basics, the dark arts and unforgivable spells. And fortunately, my parents had sources. One man, specifically, worked at Borgin and Burkes. He knew dark arts and agreed to teach me, secretly.

When the time was right, I proceeded on my plan which was to take down the ministry of magic bit by bit.

"Melissa!" what a boring name. Luckily, not my real name. "Good morning!"

"Hi," I reply distractedly. "Lovely weather today, isn't it?" My muggle friend, Jessica, nods and removes her heavy coat to adjust to the room temperature.

"I don't know how you manage to always bring hot drinks from the coffee shop through the rain," she sighs. "Mine always gets cold."

I shrug. "Maybe I'm just lucky," under the desk, I am fiddling with the wand hidden in my black leather jacket, disguised as a pen. "I think we should just close down the place for a little while."

"No way! Come on, Mel," Jessica protests. I sigh.

"No one comes here in this weather!" I reply.

"Give it time," Jessica seems stubborn about keeping the library open. I go back to drinking my latte.

The whole day is practically a bust. The library was deserted all morning and around three pm it does not get much better. Only about a few people came in to return borrowed books and get new ones. I smile at the final customer as I check out a novel.

"Well, that's the final customer," I say, getting up. I'm talking to myself really because Jessica is nowhere to be found. She has obviously gone home, leaving me in charge of locking up the library. With a quick hand gesture, everything is neatly arranged and prepared for another day. My wandless magic should not be underestimated.

The rain beats as heavily as it did in the morning. That is how it signals the end of a day. I grab my coat, covering my head with the hood and run out into the cold rain. I run into the alleyway between the library building and an apartment building. I am pretty sure I am alone so now would be a good time to Disapparate.

When I take a relaxing hot bath and wear something more comfortable, I enjoy microwave dinner on the couch in front of the blaring television. Once I am done, I observe the wizard world. My teacher from Borgin and Burkes, Hamish, sends me newspapers every day. My killings have plagued the wizard world with anticipation and dread to what happens next. I almost feel sorry for them. After what happened with Voldemort, they at least need to know how it feels like to not look over their shoulders. But then I remember my parents and my mind shifts to the rancor I am supposed to feel for them.

I know I will never get caught because over there they do not think that someone called Elisa Williams still exists. Yes, my real name is Elisa. They think I disappeared once my parents died. So they all think I am dead. If they are searching for suspects, none of them will ever think of coming into a muggle library in muggle London searching for a wizard or witch responsible for the killings. All I can do is sit back and watch as the wizard world begins to shatter as their precious ministry crumples to pieces. I should feel guilty or afraid. But in my mind, only one sentence seems to register there: They deserve it.

I may seem proud of my plans and happy with my secret life but it is always temporary. As I lie in bed at night, I cannot use Occlumency to even block out the scariest nightmares. Every night I wake up trembling with tears pouring out of my eyes. It is the same state Hamish found me in the day my parents died. Hamish said it was bad. So he taught me how to bottle up my emotions and keep an indifferent mask on my face all the time. I used to cry everyday at first but now I only cry when I do not control my mind. My parents deserve that at least, right?

My nightmares are mostly the same – me sitting on the stairs as the front doors burst open, my parents defending themselves hopelessly against five or so aurors, their bodies tumbling to the ground, wands too far for them to reach. Then there is that piercing scream that echoes through the house and fades away, like my parents struggling on the floor from pain. Just like the scream, the sound of their movements slowly fades until they are too weak to fight and they just fall limp on the floor. My mother's head moves to the side, her green eyes making contact with mine. She was sending me a message. I used to think she said 'I love you' but now I believe she meant 'take those bastards down'. And I kept my word.

It is drizzling the next day. Maybe we will get more customers since the weather is not holding anyone hostage in shelter. Today I keep my hair down. I am wearing a black tank top and black jeans with a red leather jacket. I am able to get to work on time and sit down at my usual desk, checking out the list of borrowed books with headphones in my ears. Jessica is unpacking a box of new books in the storage room upstairs.

Suddenly, from the corner of my eye, the front door opens. I remove my headphones and look up just in time to see a flash of blonde hair disappear behind the shelves. This is odd. Customers do not usually come in at this time. I shrug it off and continue to check the borrowed books. Shit, some are overdue. The person is now displayed before me as he comes out from between the bookshelves. His expression is one of a lost puppy. I stifle a laugh.

"Can I help you with something?" I ask, showing off my trademark smirk. I lean back on my chair nonchalantly as the person turns around to look at me. His grey eyes widen when he realizes that he has to give me a reply.

Hesitantly, he speaks. "I'm, uh, looking for a book about gardening." I observe him closely. He does not seem like a gardener.

"For my mother," he adds as if reading my mind.

Placing my indifferent mask on, I point to one of the bookshelves. "Didn't you check the books categorized under the letter 'G'?"

"They're placed in alphabetical order?" he asks confused, mainly to himself. I nod in affirmation.

"No offence, but are you new here? You seem lost. I haven't seen you before in this side of town," I make conversation, mostly because I am curious about this weird newcomer.

He raises an eyebrow. "I don't live here. I'm just passing by," he mutters. Not much of a verbose person I see. Finally, he finds a book and pulls it out, scrutinizing it before smirking. "I'd like to buy this please." He comes over to me and drops the book before me.

"Okay, it costs 20 pounds," I answer. He frowns and searches his pockets.

"I don't have that much," he says.

"Well, sorry for you," I answer, about to take the book. He immediately stops me.

"No, I need it," he protests. I look at his face. There are no signs of desperation. He is showing an indifferent expression.

"Doesn't seem like it," I mutter.

"Can I pay half now and half later?" he asks. I sigh. At least he seems a bit desperate now.

"Alright, just write your name here and the payment you're making. And contact information as well as address," he nods and takes the pen I offer to him.

"What's your name?" he asks me, without looking up.

"That's not important," I say curtly.

"Come on," he looks up. "I'm curious."

I decide to tell him. What could a random stranger do anyway? He is just a muggle. "Melissa," I answer. He smirks.

"Melissa," he repeats. "Lovely name," he adds. He hands me the paper he wrote on and I fold it in front of me without reading it.

"So, I'll be seeing you again soon, Melissa?" he asks, handing me half of the payment. I am about to nod when my eyes land on something on his arm partly hidden by his jacket, something too familiar to me. My eyes widen instantly as I realize the big mistake I have just done.

"I'm sorry," I say grabbing his arm and pulling up his sleeve all the way, just to look at it.

"Hey! What are you doing?" he snaps. I hold him in a tight grip; when was the last time I saw this? The colour has faded and…and… bloody hell; I just familiarized with a wizard. I let him pull his arm away. "Why do you look so surprised?" he asks, pulling down his sleeves. Then he seems to think about everything that just happened. He looks at me and it is as if he sees right through me, right through the big complicated web called my life. "Are you a…?"

Immediately, I shuffle books on the desk. "Thank you for visiting our library. Please come back again soon," I almost shove the book in his hands.

"We're not done talking…" the front door opens and another customer enters.

"How may I help you, miss?" I ask, my voice quivering just a bit. The woman approaches the desk. The wizard leans in and breathes on my face.

"You haven't seen the last of me. I'll be back," he whispers and disappears quickly out the door. The woman hands me a book she borrowed and as I begin to check it I notice the folded paper on my desk. My hands are shaky as I unfold it and my mind focuses on the name of the wizard I just encountered: Draco Malfoy.

The last time I saw the Malfoy family was in the summer of 1991. We had visited the Malfoy manor for some sort of gathering my parents never bothered to explain to me about. They always said that we were going to a boring party. They never told me how strong the purebloods believed in superiority amongst other wizards – half-bloods and muggle- borns to be precise.

The manor was gigantic, surrounded by thick, neatly-trimmed bushes. We were welcomed by a rush of cold air on our faces as we made our way to the entrance. It was an eerie place and I always felt uneasy there. At night, the manor was almost camouflaged in the night sky. The dark grey sky seemed to be connected to the grey roof of the manor.

I was never close to Draco. Yes, we were familiar with each other and we knew each other since we were much younger but ever since he stole one of my favourite dragon toys when we were seven, I never really forgave him. He had an entire collection of them but he still chose to take one of mine.

On that particular night, Draco and the rest of the pureblood kids had gotten their letters from Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. I had gotten mine as well. The difference between the other purebloods and me is that I wanted to go to Hogwarts but they did not. They all had features of contempt on their faces when I went to see them at the party.

"Well, well, if it isn't the charming miss Williams," Blaise Zabini said to me when I entered the living room where all the kids were sitting and talking.

"You don't look so cheerful, Blaise," I answered. "What's got you all so angry?"

Draco stared at me and smirked. "You mean you didn't get a letter from Hogwarts?"

I smirked back. "I did, of course. Good news actually." I remember the other purebloods giving me snobby looks. "What house would you like to be placed in?"

"Slytherin," Draco and Blaise said in unison. These kids were meant for Slytherin – they were furtive, insatiable and deceiving. "What about you?" Draco asked.

"I'm just going to accept where the Sorting Hat places me," I answered.

"Don't act so noble; you might end up in Gryffindor," Draco said. I shrugged at that. "You know if you ended up in Gryffindor, you wouldn't be able to associate with us."

"You guys are mean anyway," I muttered. Draco seemed to have heard me.

"Williams, let me show you something," he got up and headed out the door, motioning for me to follow. I followed him, obviously because I was curious or just plain naïve to listen to anyone. Especially when it was Draco Malfoy I was listening to.

He took me to his bedroom and the first thing my eyes laid on was a shelf filled with dragon toys. My eyes narrowed into slits as I trudged my way towards it and grabbed the first dragon I saw.

"Did you just bring me here to taunt me?" I asked angrily. "The fact that you stole my dragon and lost it or what?"

"Listen, Elisa, just take any dragon from the shelf. I want you to take one," he explained, looking down at the dragon in my hand. "I see you've made your choice," he added. "Please pick another one, Elisa. That one's my favourite," he approached me to take the dragon from me but I did not allow it.

"No, Draco. You took my favourite one so I'm taking yours," I said. "We're even then," I added.

"Stubborn witch," he grumbled. "My father will hear about this."

I laughed. "What will you tell him? 'Father, Elisa Williams stole my favourite dragon toy just because I stole hers,'" I mimicked his voice.

"Shut up," he scowled.

"Come on; it's not the last time you see it," I said. "I will take it to Hogwarts. You can always see it."

"You're not going to Gryffindor, Elisa," he answered. "You're definitely going to Slytherin."

"Well if you're so sure," I headed to the door. "Then say goodbye to Precious, the most beautiful black dragon."

"I'll get you back for this," he threatened.

"We'll see about that."

I close up the library as the final customer leaves. It is not drizzling anymore; the rain has become stronger. I am not prepared for the cold rain as it falls on me like a bucket of ice water. I begin to shiver as my hair sticks to my face and my coat becomes heavier. I run into the alleyway and quickly fumble for my wand with my vacillating hands.

"Bloody hell," I mutter. My teeth start to chatter. I finally manage to hold a firm grasp on my wand and I Disapparate. In my apartment, I immediately cast a warming spell on myself, just to stop my shivering. I remove my heavy coat and drop it on the floor; I will bother about it later. Then, I sneeze. "Bloody great!"

I was supposed to go on another mission tomorrow night. But if I catch a cold, how will it be possible for me to carry out the plan quietly when I will be sniffing every two minutes and evacuating snot out of my nose? That would ruin my avenger reputation. I cannot cancel the plan for another day. My plans are time sensitive. I need to work with time or else…

I pour the contents from the sachet into the pot of boiling water. If I am determined to stay healthy for tomorrow, I am going to make some warm soup. Yes, that should do the trick. Soup will definitely help.

By the time I finish up my soup, I feel much better. Tomorrow I will be ready to proceed onto my next victim. It will be great…