If not for one trip to Diagon Alley at six years old, Helewise might never have figured out that her parents were wrong. Every child growing up is raised with the belief that their parents are infallible. Their every action, even if such actions bring about pain and suffering, must be correct, because in a child's eyes, they are always right. That is why, when Helewise went to Diagon Alley, her entire belief system was shattered. That is also why, eleven years later, she was able to leave nearly her entire life behind to start over. One trip changed everything.

Helewise had been raised as all pureblood daughters of the Sacred Twenty-Eight had been raised. She'd been raised in a world of rules, decorum, and a series of tenets that were absolutes with no room for mistakes or deviation. She'd been raised with the knowledge that she would attend Hogwarts one day, join Slytherin House, achieve superior grades, marry a Pureblood to raise sons with, and, if she were as "unfortunate" as her mother had been, daughters, who would do the same. She would never willingly surround herself with half-bloods or Merlin forbid, Mudbloods. They were "others" her family had warned her, foreign beings who would steal the magic from her if given the opportunity. But, more than that, they were inferior.

Helewise had never been given the opportunity to see these "others" for herself. Like all daughters of purebloods, she was extremely sheltered, her constitution and mind deemed too weak to be exposed to any possible outside influences. While pureblooded boys often found themselves paraded in front of polite society, spoiled, and pampered and praised for breathing, the girls were kept back until they were deemed useful. Before this day, Helewise's only socialization involved the playdates her mother would set her up on with other pureblooded boys and girls of her age.

But, three days after Helewise's sixth birthday, her mother got it into her mind that Helewise needed new dress robes and that this time she should come with her so that she might understand the proper way to procure the best fabrics, cuts, and service possible. After all, she was a Selwyn, and her mother was nothing, if not, diligent in educating her three daughters on how to be better than everyone else.

Emelda Selwyn was very particular about her children, even compared to other traditional Pureblood mothers. Her children were to be the best of everything. Anything below perfection was failure. Her children had to have the perfect reputations, but none more so than Helewise. Emelda had given birth to the girl and had hated her from first sight. It was as if she'd sensed from Helewise's first breath, that this girl would be her ultimate disappointment.

Helewise must dress more conservatively than the other children. She must be the most proper. She must speak with the most deference. With the slightest hint of insubordination, Helewise Selwyn would feel her mother's wrath. Somehow, this was not the case with her siblings an older brother, older sister, and younger sister, who managed to exist in a more peaceful state than Wise herself.

The day her world changed, Helewise woke up and like every day, her house elf had prepared her to be as picture perfect as any Victorian doll. She wore a black lace dress that covered her from neck to feet, layered in lace ruffles that itched everywhere, but the girl knew not to complain, and underneath she sported no fewer than five petticoats. Her auburn hair was pulled back severely, not a ringlet out of place even as her dark Selwyn eyes flashed nervously, a dangerous thing to do in Vex Hall. Emotions were weakness. A weakness that even this six-year-old girl could not afford.

She sat quietly at breakfast, aware that even a hint of a sound from her spoon scraping the bottom of her bowl of porridge would result in the harshest of punishments. Then, once she had eaten as much as she dared, not even considering eating the whole dish, the house elves retrieved the dishes and made themselves scarce again. Helewise remained still in her seat, as did her two elder siblings. The youngest Selwyn daughter was only four and was still expected to eatin the nursery for another year. Helewise joined her there when company was invited,but Emelda used family meals to instill strict etiquette upon her offspring.

Only once their parents had finished, did the children even trust that they could breathe. Her father dismissed his other two children, and Wise's brother was sure to send her a mocking glance before going, and they left her alone with not a word. Wise sat still, not trusting herself to move. She was terrified to go out with her mother. If she stepped one toe out of line...the thought of it gave her nightmares.

"Come along girl," her mother tsked disapprovingly, "and don't eventhink about getting a speck of dust on that coat." The older woman scowled atthe child, rising from her chair and marching off to the front door. Emeldadidn't even bother to look down at the girl to ensure her instructions werefollowed, she knew the girl was terrified of her and would do what sheinstructed.

Wise followed her mother's words, putting on her cloak at the door very carefully and being extra delicate with the lace gloves she put on her hands. Last time she'd worn them out of doors, she'd gotten the tiniest rip in the seam on her left pinky. When one of the house elves informed her mother of this transgression, Wise hadn't been able to sit for two days after.

Once that was done, she was instructed to take her mother's arm. The child complied warily, and without warning she apparated the two into Diagon Alley. Her mother let go of her arm without warning, and the poor little girl had to hide her weak knees. Wise swallowed uncomfortably, wishing to be sick, but unwilling to risk such an unladylike act in front of her mother. The taste of bile was there though, but she swallowed it all down, no matter how ill it would make her later.

"What are you doing, you stupid girl?" Emelda hissed under her breath. "You are to follow not more than two steps behind me unless instructed. No dawdling or gawking like those uncouth Mudbloods." With that final word on the matter, Emelda turned on her heels and swept her skirts so that they smacked Helewise in her face before walking away and child followed quickly.

Still, despite her mother's warning, Wise couldn't help but look around. The sight of so many colors and so many different people was alluring to a girl whose home was so dark and barren. Pinks and reds and oranges and yellows filled her eyes along with bright blues and deep, passionate purples. She was nearly overwhelmed with delight, but a glance down at her own black skirt and ahead at her mother's black dress kept her from exclaiming over the wonderous sights. Her mother would not be pleased that her daughter wasn't following instructions.

Despite her best efforts, the little girl was so enraptured by the sight of a shop that purported to sell toys, that she nearly missed her mother turning to enter Madam Thimble's Robe shop. Catching herself, Wise rushed along, following right behind as a pleasant tinkling bell signaled their entrance.

"Ah. Mrs. Selwyn," a stout older woman with white hair came back with a polite smile plastered on her face. "How may I help you this morning?"

"My daughter will be fitted for a new set of dress robes, black of course, conservative and traditional. I expect the hem to grow with her for at least two more years. She's naturally a petite thing so it should be within your capabilities however impeded those may be."

"Of course," the woman nodded, her smile becoming less welcoming and more and more forced at the Selwyn woman's insulting words and demeaning tone. "Anything else?"

"That will be all for today."

"Of course," she nodded. "I have two gentlemen finishing up and I should be able to get the girl's measurements right away. Please, go into the back, and I will bring you a selection of lace to choose from."

The woman, Madam Thimble tried to send Helewise a kind smile, but the girl didn't dare return it. There was no smiling in the Selwyn house, not even around other people. At least, not for Helewise. She'd seen her brother smile and not get chastised, but her older sister and Wise had, had the lesson beaten into their very bones. You do not smile.

As they walked into the back room, Emelda collided right into a shorter man and practically knocked him down without seeming to care about any perceived impropriety. Wise was shocked, so shocked that she stopped following her mother and stood completely still in the doorway. Terrified to even move after catching the disgusted look on her mother's face.

There were two men in the back room, and both men were dressed in nice enough wizarding robes. The taller man's robes were of a much finer style and quality although his companion's robes were hardly ragged. The taller man had kind hazel eyes, silver spectacles, and hair the same color as his spectacles that was finely controlled and slicked back from his face. He stood behind the colliding duo, a few pins still in his robes as if he'd been getting fitted when they'd walked in. The shorter man, who'd been walking through the doorway that Helewise and her mother had come through, was much younger than his companion, looking about her mum's age. He had sandy hair and was slightly rounded. His eyes, which had previously been filled with good humor now looked weary.

"Excuse you," the shorter man started, shocked at the older woman's careless actions.

"Watch who you are talking to you, you dirty Mudblood!" Emelda Selwyn snapped, turning her nose up.

Helewise stared at the man in fear and awe. She'd never seen a Mudblood before. She didn't know what to do, so she stood still, hoping to disappear from her mother's sight when she looked as angry as she did now. Emelda Selwyn's eyes had taken on a renewed sparkle of cruelty, the kind that came out when she was issuing a punishment. It was the look of Helewise's nightmares.

The poor man's reaction is what changed Helewise's life forever. In her innocent trust that her parents were always correct, Helewise had always assumed that Mudblood was just a word that described a group of people. That was what you were called if you didn't come from a Pureblood wizarding family or had another wizarding parent. It was just a word to her, although she knew her family despised those that they called Mudbloods. It had never before occurred to her that these thoughts might be wrong or that the word itself was actually a slur.

The man, who despite being a Mudblood, appeared to be hurt at her mother's words had stepped back when her mother yelled at him. If anything, his eyes began glittering with unshed tears, and his entire expression screamed that he'd been hurt. The word had landed like a blow, just as Emelda had intended. A glance at her mother allowed Wise to recognize that hitting this unsuspecting man was exactly what her mother intended. She looked inordinately pleased with herself, a small, satisfied smirk on her face.

"Now then," the tall man with silver hair stepped between mother and this poor man who looked as if he'd been struck, "There's no need for disgusting language like that Emelda. It was an accident and you were the one to run into Dorian."

"Stay out of this, Fleamont," her mother dismissed the man carelessly, her eyes set on her target. "I was merely suggesting that this, thing, know its place. It's the height of rudeness to run into a lady without apologizing."

"I don't see a lady here," the older man, Fleamont, mumbled under his breath, but both Helewise and her mother heard him.

Helewise was stunned. She'd never seen anyone stand up to her mother. Never. 

"Well, I have never been so insulted," she sniffed, her face turning red in anger. While she prepared to continue to yell at the older man, the younger one made his escape, almost knocking Helewise down in his hurry.

"I'm terribly sorry," Dorian breathed out, barely a whisper, before he ran out the door, the bell tinkling behind him. Wise had almost missed his apology, but she'd just managed to hear it, and she swore she saw some tears coming out of his eyes when he left.

Helewise was confused. He didn't look scary, and he didn't look any different than any of her parents' friends, even if he did do disgusting things like cry when yelled at. He didn't scream at her or her mother that they were wicked, if anything, her mother was the one who acted wicked. He was nothing like Wise had been taught.

Her mother had just opened her mouth to give the older man a scolding lecture when Madam Thimble came in hurriedly with her selection of lace.

"Here you are, Mrs. Selwyn, an assortment of our finest laces for you to look at. Ah and Mr. Potter thank you so much for waiting," she shuffled around them, as if she didn't feel the tension in the air. She handed Emelda the fabric swatches and she began taking the pins out of the fabric on the man's robes.

"Mr. Potter, you are all done," the older woman exclaimed cheerfully. "You'll find your other robes in the closet and you can expect to pick up this new pair in three days after the fabric arrives from Paris."

"Thank you kindly, Madame Thimble. I hope you have a good day."

While the adults talked, Helewise stood as still as possible, lingering in the doorway, not wanting to move until she was explicitly instructed to. A good thing too, because her mother was scowling down at the lace as if it had gone on to personally offend her.

"Miss Selwyn," Madame Thimble looked up at the small pale girl and gestured her to two small platforms in the middle of the room. "Please stand on this so that I might take your measurements." Instinctively, Wise glanced towards her mother, who wasn't giving her any attention, and back to the Madame, deciding that it would be improper not to follow the woman's instructions. Wearily, she stepped forward, not allowing her short heels to click on the floor, she glided to stand on the platform.

The girl's movements caught the eyes of Fleamont, who was sadly reminded of his own small child at home. If James had been there, he'd have stomped or bounded over to the platform, making as much noise as humanly possible to ensure that everyone knew he was there. But this child acted as if it was her job to ensure that people didn't realize that she existed. Such a life made him incredibly sad.

Then, Emelda moved that glare straight from the lace up to Madame Thimble. "This simply won't do. Much too flashy for a child. Let me see the rest of your collection. Stay here, Helewise and don't move!"

The two women disappeared to the front of the shop, leaving Wise standing alone with the older man, Fleamont her mother had called him, who'd quickly exchanged the robes he'd had on for his own, and appeared to be putting on his cloak to leave.

"Helewise is it?" the gentleman broke the silence by smiling over at her, and he wasn't surprised that she didn't return the action. However, she did look up at him, removing her eyes from the floor to his face. "How old are you? Five?"

"Six," she responded without thinking. She was used to fighting Sirius and Narcissa Black about her age. They were on her limited list of approved friends, Sirius being her best friend, and the two always said that she looked too young, but it wasn't true. She wasn't too small for her age, she argued. The Blacks were just supremely tall.

"Ah," the man sighed happily. "Six is a grand age. I have a little boy who's six. Although he seems to get into an awful lot of trouble. I bet you never get into trouble."

"I don't try to," the little girl's voice was small, but it was clear, her diction perfect even with missing teeth. It made Fleamont sad, certain that she'd been harshly punished if even the barest hint of a lisp had come through. "I honestly don't try to get into trouble, but Mother says I'm the most disobedient child she knows."

"Well, then," Fleamont responded gruffly, "it's a good thing she's not met my son. I'm afraid he's not nearly as polite as you are."

"Then she shouldn't meet him," Wise's eyes widened in alarm. "She...she doesn't like it when people aren't polite."

"Well then, she might want to think about being polite more," the man spoke candidly. "The word she called Dorian wasn't very polite at all."

"It's not?" Wise's eyes widened. "But he's a Mudblood."

Fleamont flinched as the horrible slur came from such an innocent, unsuspecting source. Still, he was a father, it was his natural inclination to teach right from wrong.

"That is a dreadful word," Fleamont explained patiently. "It's not used in most polite wizarding society. You shouldn't use it."

"I shouldn't?" she asked, earnestly trying to understand. "But if I don't say it...what...what are wizards supposed to be called if they don't come from wizards? If their parents...aren't wizards?"

"Muggleborns," he said softly, "And they have just as much magic as you and me."

"Really?" she asked, genuinely confused. Everything she had ever been taught up to this one moment, was the opposite of what this man had to say. But this man...he appeared to be so kind, his eyes soft as he took her in. He had actually smiled at her and not the pity smiles she usually got from adults. It was a real smile, warm and inviting, like the ones Sirius and Andy would give her. She was ready to believe him, if only for these simple acts of kindness. After all, she was only six. She was learning. "But...but don't they all hate us?"

"They don't know we exist," the man said patiently. "And sure, there are some who have heard about magic and are scared of it, but that's why we need to be understanding and kind. We need to teach them, so they learn. There are bad muggles and good muggles the same way there are bad wizards and good wizards. In the end...we're all people."

Wise nodded, taking in this new information like a flower, leaning towards the light after so long in shadow. This made sense to her in a way that her family's beliefs never had. It was fascinating really.

Of course, at that moment, her mother came back into the room and sent a withering glare towards the older man who had spoken to her. Like the moment had never happened, Wise straightened up, and remained silent as Fleamont left and she was fitted for another set of dreadfully outdated dress robes.

We're all people, the child kept thinking. I have to tell Sirius what I've learned.

And that's the Prologue! Comment! Vote! Add to Reading Lists!