London was bustling as usual, the tiny pin-like people scattered about as the rain showered relentlessly on the cars that beeped and swerved on the road.

Almost like little beetles darting about, all trying to get to their destination. And then, over the rooftops, birds could be seen attempting receive shelter from the endless downpour.

The pavements, crammed with people of every colour, shape and size moved as a great river of humanity, the roads rivers of cars, with spots of puddles and dripping drainpipes.

The buildings that were lining the streets in a small girl's eyesight, through the rain spattered window, had seen the modern age pass and this was evident as they stood in silent witness to the goings on of the city, weathered and damp rocks stretching towards the grey, cloudy sky.

But no one realised that little Euphemia Black, who was watching London at life was different, that she was special. 

It always fascinated her, the whole movement of life - how everything moved like clockwork, the cogs of the world forever turning.

To her, every human being had a life worth living, Muggle or not. She still didn't get why her parents were so prejudiced against non-magical folk.

For the third time that week, Euphemia stood watching the city of London, her ever noticing blue-grey eyes spotting out the billowing cloaks that clothed witches and wizards who would suddenly disappear from a crowd.

Her eyes, today in particular, had followed a little family bustling across the square beneath the manor (which sat on a large hill overlooking it).

It was of about five - three kids with two adults. The two youngest were splashing about in puddles, clad in bright yellow wellies and the oldest was running along, sliding in the puddles and soaking the ankles of their parents who walked hand in hand under a red umbrella.

Euphemia watched as the family entered their house, shaking the umbrella and raincoats dry.

Two of the children ran back out again dancing in the rain until one of them tripped the other and fell in the puddle. Euphemia couldn't help it, she laughed. But it wasn't a cruel laugh, she was joining in their fun from watching.

She had a sudden urge to join them and ran downstairs from her bedroom to grab her raincoat from the cloakroom.

Seizing her raincoat, wellies and umbrella (all with an Impervius charm upon) she ran out, yelling to her mother where she was going.

Cassiopeia just rolled her eyes fondly at the 9 year old in the sitting room and muttered something along the lines of "such a lively one, that girl" as she turned the Daily Prophet's pages to the interesting article on Grindelwald's latest attack.

Euphemia ran straight down the hill to the square of terrace house that she knew housed a variation of muggle and wizarding families.

Her mother always told her to play with the other Black cousins who lived in Number 12, hidden from view, but Euphemia knew she would have so much more fun playing with the Muggle children she happened to see.

After all, her mother wouldn't mind, right, as they were all the same really? Or they were to Euphemia, anyway.

The two kids looked up from their frolicking to see the small girl running towards them and the younger of the two hid behind the other for protection.

Though, of course, Euphemia wasn't going to hurt them. She eagerly approached them, smiling kindly. "Hello, can I play?"

"Depends.." the boy said, cautious of this strange girl, "..who are you? I've never seen you around here before!"

"That's because I live up there in the manor," she answered, pointing out the house on the hill and the two looked up in awe.

"Really? You live all the way up there? Is it like a fairy castle?" gushed the little girl beside her brother, her eyes as wide as saucers.

Euphemia laughed, though not unkindly. "No, no. It's just an ordinary house, slightly bigger than others, that's all."

"Yes, very nice but who are you?" the boy asked again, remembering what his mother had said about not talking to strangers.

"Shush Justy! I want to know if she has servants and big halls and those big sparkly thingymabobs they have in Mummy's storybooks!!!!" She looked expectantly to the older girl.

"We do have big halls which are for dancing when we have big family events and I suppose we do have a servant, yes...." Euphemia replied, thinking of Tibet their house elf.

The boy crossed his arms in frustration and Euphemia, not wanting to cross him quickly introduced herself. "I'm Euphemia Cassiopeia Ophelia Black by the way. And, you are?"

The pair stared at her, confused by her long, complicated name which sounded very posh indeed.

"Well....um, we don't have long names like that but - I'm just Justin Arthur Paris and this is my sister Clover Jane Paris...." Justin trailed off awkwardly before realising she wanted to shake his hand and grabbing it quickly with his grubby one.

Little Clover beamed up at Euphemia and held up her tiny paw to shake too.

"Now we're nicely acquainted, shall we play before all the rain goes away?" Euphemia suggested and the two nodded, Clover squeaking "yes yes Eu - fe - ma !!!" to which Euphemia replied, "Call me Mia."

Throughout that afternoon, Euphemia had probably the most fun she had had in ages.

It wasn't an organised play date with a respectable pure blood child - it was an undignified 'lark about' with Muggle children.

Euphemia felt extremely rebel like and was even more set in her opinion that Muggles were not the horrible people her family made them out to be, but were in fact just the same as witches and wizards.

In fact, and Euphemia felt so badass saying that but she thought Muggle children were more fun than the pureblood kids her mother forced her to 'play' with (which was actually sitting about awkwardly playing Gobstones).

She trailed back up the hill in her sodden clothes - for it really hadn't stopped raining throughout her time with Clover and Justin - waving good bye with an absent minded smile.

As soon as she stepped through the door she was greeted with a warm gust of air as her mother waved her wand at her wet coat and Euphemia's eyes found the disapproving stare of Cassiopeia Black. She gulped.

~~~

Later on, Euphemia sat grumpily in her bedroom, looking out of the very window she had seen the Parises.

She was fresh from a stiff lecture off her mother about playing with the likes of muggles.

Cassiopeia had lectured her only daughter on the dangers of muggles in which Euphemia had angrily replied that Justin and Clover were lovely and she didn't see the problem.

That had resulted in a severe spanking and a little cruciatus (but Euphemia was used to that so she didn't really mind).

Now, she sat sulking and willing to herself that she would play with the Parises, no matter what her mother said.

However, no matter how grumpy and sulky she seemed on the outside, she was hurting on the inside in more ways than one.

She just didn't get it, why her family hated muggles so much, why she couldn't be accepted for simply wanting to make friends instead of wallowing in her own loneliness.

Euphemia felt a small tear slide down her cheek and soon she was blinking hard to stop a flow of them rushing out of her eyes like an uncontrollable waterfall.

Her heart hurt and her bones certainly hurt from where they had been stretched from the torture curse, though it had only been a little batch today.

Nevertheless, it made Euphemia upset because the nine year old simply didn't understand what was wrong with muggles, why she couldn't play with them - Clover and Justin had seemed perfectly fine, just like any other kids.

And she didn't know why her mother wanted to hurt her, her own mother. Mothers were meant to cherish their children, not hurt them for making friends.

Euphemia set her jaw, feeling the emotional pain wash over her, as her hands swept over her eyes, trying to stop the hot tears from brimming over the edge.

She wasn't going to let them beat her anymore, she was going to stand up to them and make sure they knew that she wasn't going to take any more hardship from them.

It was at this point that she stood up, fists clenched and walked over to her closed bedroom door, determined and eager to let her parents know what she thought of them....but then the pain from before washed over her, her mother's harsh words repeating in her head, digging at her brain and repeating over and over like a broken record.

Worthless. Useless. Disappointment. Disgraceful. Disloyal. Traitor. Sinful. Unforgivable. Disgusting. You deserve to be punished, Euphemia, for you have disgraced the name of Black..."No, no, no, stop it, stop it!" the nine year old cried out, her hands covering her ears as if it would stop the words from digging into her thoughts, plaguing her dreams and intertwining into her mind, creating a wall of hate that made Euphemia doubt herself.

Tears flowed freely down the young girl's cheeks now, she didn't even try to stop the, as she took great gasping breaths, shuddering with sobs as they racked through her body unforgivably, the words echoing in her head as she collapsed against her closed door, resting her head against it as trembles shook her all over, as shivers ran races up and down her spine. She wasn't going to stand for this, no way.

And that, is where Euphemia's rebellion began, my friends.