Bodies. There were two adult bodies, fairly slim and healthy, but their fate was already sealed. A child stood above them, a small one at that - a child of about five. The parents lay together, hands combined between them. There was no hope. The little girl's sobs were about as violent as she was.

There was no blood, of course not. No muggle means of murder would've made its way onto this crime scene, nor was the child quite so torturous as to treat her parents so cruelly. Nevertheless, there they lay, their bodies cold and lifeless. There was a muggle contraption playing in the background, a television - how do you entertain a child before they turn eleven, anyways - but it was too late for distractions. 

The little girl's hand, to be stained with the guilt of what she'd just committed, stayed in front of her. It was firm, and her palm was flat. Nobody could deny the evidence. The child had murdered her parents.

Professor Snape watched from afar, but Lilith didn't know that. He watched as she slowly sunk to the ground, soaking it all in. She wept at her mother's side, held herself to her breast, and clutched her father's chunky fingertips. They were so kind, so brave, so strong. Severus Snape found himself wondering, if a man as great as Lilith's father - Mervyn, could not hold back this infant, how could he? If even Dumbledore had such high praise of a wizard!

Ah, it was all too similar to the scene Snape had walked into about four years ago. Two dead, one child remains. Although, it would be ludicrous to compare young Harry Potter to Lilith Lovell. It was entirely unreasonable. In Snape's twenty or so years of experience, he'd never known such a young child to inflict pain on their parents, not even with the type of upbringing he'd had. 

Professor Snape almost jumped out of bed - a peculiar incident for him. He hadn't seen how Lilith's parents had been murdered and thoughts of how, just how, a five year old child could commit such a crime with magic. Lilith knew of magic, but being able to perform it to the extent of death at that age... It was unheard of.

Severus pondered for a moment but decided against questioning Albus Dumbledore on the events. It had been six years, there was no point in bringing issues back into the old man's life when they'd already blown over so long ago. He had enough on his plate with explaining to Lilith about her being a Metamorphmagus. She seemed to understand, but why was she only finding out now? Why had this never taken effect before? What about Hogwarts made that part of her reveal itself? These were the questions that haunted not only Severus Snape's bothered mind, but also the mind of the girl in question herself.

Lilith, in the mean time, was laying still on her bed. She was drowned by the slate-coloured sheets. They entangled themselves around her body, illuminated by the dull moonlight seeping into her dorm room through their window. A Metamorphmagus. Allowing her wishes to take over her mind, she lifted a strand of her hair only to see that it had become a light blonde shade. Fascination took over her body. It felt impossible that she was something special, something different - that something defined her other than being the little girl who killed her parents. Lilith sighed, again. It was becoming quite the habit of hers.

"Anything the matter, Lily?" Daphne called out, approaching her bed. It was late at night, perhaps the early hours of the morning, but from what she had experienced so far, Daphne had almost equally as much trouble sleeping as Lilith herself did.

"I suppose not," Lilith told her. Her dark tawny eyes rested on her friend's face. It was sunken in, almost dead. "Daphne, is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

Daphne's lips curled upwards, but it was a little forced. She said, "Nothing much, Lily. It's a wonder we haven't woken Pansy up - she must be a rather heavy sleeper, don't you think?"

Lilith nodded, uninterested in small talk. She allowed Daphne to go back to sleep before wandering down the icy steps to the Slytherin common room. From there, she found herself seated in one of the plush, luxurious chairs facing the window. Lilith's eyes glowed green as the light reflected in them - the Giant Squid could be seen from afar, floating aimlessly. The young girl couldn't help but wish for the same freedom. Although the Giant Squid wasn't particularly liked, she submerged herself in ideas of living a guilt-free life, and wondered how much more she'd prefer being disliked to seeing the lifeless faces of her dead parents every time her eyes closed for anything more than a blink.

Soon enough, she began to dose again. Soft footsteps made their way down into the common room, however, and Lilith was awake enough to shoot up in response to the sound. A groggy blond made his way over towards her. 

"Lilith," he whispered, checking if she was awake. When she craned her neck around to face him, he nodded knowingly. "I won't tell anyone."

"Thanks," she responded sleepily, rather annoyed at his interruption. He looked down at her inquisitively, but despite his urge to ask what was wrong, he headed to the chair opposite her and sunk into it himself. She added, "Can't sleep?"

"I guess," he shrugged back. Draco wasn't too keen on small talk either. He was only really awake because he'd been thinking about the strange girl who had somehow - as if by magic - managed to peak his interest. Such a powerful witch at their age.

Lilith, once again, reached the point where her eyes finally fell shut. This time she succeeded without any interruptions from Draco. He eventually fell into the realm of sleep too. While Lilith's mind was filled with images of her parents, merciless at her hand, Draco's mind was blank; an empty canvas waiting to be painted.