"Some people survive choas
And that is how they grow.
Some people thrive in chaos
Because chaos is all they know."

Again and again, Eleanor visited the secret room. In the dead of night, she crept through the house, using the many secret passageways to reach the Library undetected. She had a gut feeling that this room was meant to remain undiscovered but her curiosity overtook her reason.

She had read through many books, some of which were in Latin or other languages such as German and French. Sometimes the books contained a multitude of different languages all in one paragraph.

So, she read the books she could first, then spent time deciphering the more complicated books.

She had read enough to know how to cast a few spells. She wanted to test one today.

Hidden inside the fireplace, behind a brick, was a box. It contained a dagger. She kept it in the room so her parents would not stumble across it.

It was a simple dagger, with a gold hilt engraved with red gemstones. The dagger itself was aged. It was simple, yet elegant.

She was nervous to begin the spell. It was a simple spell to summon fire, which she would use to light the fireplace.

She had practised the chant and the symbols and she was ready to perform the spell.

But she had never seen her own blood. She had never been injured in any way, and the spell required her to cut a small line through her hand to expose blood.

She wanted to do it though.

She had to.

She still had her Felix Felicis she got for her birthday. She wanted to keep it for a more important reason, though she didn't think that today was the day she would use it.

Eleanor sat cross-legged on the floor, Invictus next to her. She held the book open in front of her and gripped the dagger in her left hand.

Turning her right palm up, she took the knife and pressed it to her palm. It stung, but she moved it down to create a line.

Her eyes had been shut throughout the entire ordeal, but she opened them afterwards.

She expected to see red blood oozing out of her hand, like when her mother would prick her finger on the roses when she worked in the garden.

Instead, she saw shimmering white blood dripping from the cut.

That is not what she had expected.

Shaking off the distraction she uttered the spell. The fireplace light up with a flash and Eleanor get her energy being drained.

She was happy though, she completed her first blood magic spell.

"I did it, Invictus," she whispered to the cat who had gone to inspect the fire.

She looked back to her hand to see the white blood vanishing along with the cut, leaving not a scar, but smooth skin in its wake.

"What?" She mumbled as she felt the skin where the cut had been. It was smooth and unharmed.

Weeks had passed, and soon weeks turned into months until August came. Every day she returned to the room and practised more advanced spells. Each time, white blood poured from her wounds before healing without a trace. Not a single scar remained on her body.

There were useful spells, ones that created a long-lasting fire or a quick healing spell.

But there were darker spells too. Ones that Eleanor wanted to avoid but kept going back and reading through them all.

The torture spells, used to do harm. They were brutal and cruel, she didn't even want to repeat them. She had to admit, they were tempting.

She knew it was wrong, and she wouldn't dare trying any of them, but the thought of having so much power enticed her.

Today, however, she would be practising the most advanced spell she could find. One that wasn't dark, no, it was a rather useful spell.

She had become confident in her abilities and believed she was capable of performing the spell correctly.

A healing spell. Not any, simple spell. This blood magic could be used to heal the most severe injuries known to wizard-kind. All with a simple incantation.

She would, of course, suffer fatigue as a side effect of the magic but a good rest and some food would fix that.

She hurried through the halls of the dark house. She walked through the dark with confidence, having remembered the way to the room by heart.

She carried a little bird in her hands, careful not to hurt it more. She found it outside the other day, it had been injured by another animal. That was when she decided to try the spell, as none of her other spells were working for the poor bird. His injuries may have been small compared to her but they were huge for him.

Invictus stalked ahead of her, making sure no one else was creeping in the dark.

They reached the room and Eleanor entered in a hurry and set the bird down on a little cushion. She took out one of her books and the dagger, setting both down in front of her.

"Replete tuæ sanitatem, sana anima tua, nisi tua spiritum," she read from the pages of the book.

"Replenish thy health, heal thy soul, save thy breath," she whispered the rough translation.

She took a deep breath and smiled at the little bird, "You'll feel better soon, little one."

Invictus sat in the corner watching as she picked up the dagger and brought it to her palm, drawing more blood than she had for any of the other spells.

"Replete tuæ sanitatem." She waves her hand above the bird.

"Sana anima tua."

"Nisi tua spiritum," she whispered the final part of the spell.

A white glow emitted from her hand and reached the bird. The bright glow blinded the occupants of the room before it dimmed down and vanished.

Eleanor grinned as she picked up the bird, who hopped up and chirped.

"It worked!" She whisper-yelled. "I can't believe it worked!"

The bird hopped around on her palms before spreading his little wings and taking flight, soaring around the room.

A blood-curdling yell interrupted Eleanor's happiness. Leaping up she ran forwards, darting towards the door.

She stumbled as she ran, her energy drained from the use of the magic.

Another scream.

It was her mother.

Eleanor ran faster until she reached the final floor where her parents' bedroom lay. She rushed in to see her parents covered in long gashes and wounds, all of them bleeding.

She stopped in her tracks as she took in the scene, her parents terrified expressions and the pain in their voices.

"Eleanor," her father gasped in pain. "remember what I taught you. Every lesson will help you."

She watched as the heavy breathing of her father's chest slowed to a stop.

She watched as her mother let out a gut-wrenching scream of agony as she watched her husband die. She fell beside him as her breathing slowed.

Eleanor gained the strength to move as she rushed towards her nurse's room, where she found the exact same thing.

She was covered in gashes, not breathing.

She ran with tears streaming down her face towards the final room, her tutor's.

Dead.

She stepped outside the room and fell to the ground against the wall.

"No, no, no," she whispered over and over again until a ministry official shook her from her thoughts.

Hours had passed and she hadn't noticed a thing.

"Come on, sweetheart," the lady whispered in a soothing voice, "it's okay, come with us."

Eleanor looked up and saw a woman standing in front of her. She was wearing a Ministry Official badge.
She nodded and followed the lady, who was accompanied by a middle-aged man with auburn hair.

Eleanor was led to the living room, where Aurors and more ministry officials stood, conversing in hushed whispers.

She had just managed to hear a bit of their conversation, "Could it have been Grindelwald's men?"

"It seems likely, their last attack was only an hour away from here."

Grindelwald. She knew it wasn't him, no this was her doing.

The spell didn't work.

She got too cocky, too arrogant, too confident in her spells. The bird no longer had any injuries, no they were given to a new host. Four hosts.

The gashes and wounds that covered her family guardians had been the exact same gashes that covered the little bird she tried to save.

She killed her parents.