I sat there. Just sat. Hero was at Uncle Noah's house and, though I knew he was not safe (nor was she as she was just another descendant of the Rennis bloodline), I couldn't think of them. Not now. Not when everything was rolling downhill. He would pay for this. I would make sure of it. Just not now. Perhaps not even sometime soon. I just knew he would pay. He needed to. It was the least he could do.

I was sitting in the backyard of what was once the Rennis family household. Now all it was was a heavy reminder of the emptiness that had consumed the place. The house reeked of old memories. Joyful ones that I wanted to come alive again. I sighed. It was no fair. I wanted to see them again even if it was just a few minutes, just one more time.

The cruel way we were torn apart, it wasn't fair. I never got the chance to say goodbye. I wanted to run into Dad's arms. I wanted to race Chase and Ryan around the backyard on our brooms even if we were all using the same ancient, low-class ones. To run around freely playing pranks with my friends and to have Chase scold me for doing it. For me to break a boy's heart and to have the usual public break-up and to have Ryan and Chase and my best friends laughing uproariously behind me. I knew that I could run into Mr. Carson's arms, that I could race Sirius and James on brooms, that I could play pranks and have Remus scold me, that I could hurt someone emotionally with just the Marauders laughing so hard their sides could split, that I could move on. But the thing was, I couldn't. I don't think I ever will.

I was in the backyard, watching the sky, watching the sun stain it with pink and gold. It was a beautiful sight, really, but I was too consumed in my thoughts to really linger on the thought of its natural beauty. A pitcher of pink lemonade was on the small round table beside the wooden yard chair. Next to the pitcher was a tall glass full of the pink juice, but it remained untouched. I wasn't thirsty, despite the heated beating sun, at its hottest point, falling like a blanket over my legs and up to my waist.

I could remember him so clearly. His dirty blond hair, un-boyishly long to the ends of his ears, falling over his electric blue eyes. He had the best smile I've ever seen. I felt my throat close up at the thought of him. He was a liar. A dirty conniving cheat. But I still loved him so. How could I feel that to someone who betrayed me? Did I really love him so passionately that throughout the whole ordeal, after the damage he caused, after the wound cut so deep into my heart, I could still love him? It was crazy but it was true. Sirius and James told me numerous times to move on. I did try, I really did, but they didn't understand what it felt like to hurt so badly. I just wanted to die. I don't think that even James and Sirius' pain combined could hurt more than the uncomfortable twinge of anger and sadness I was feeling. I really hated him for it but I still cared for him as though we were still young lovers. I remember what happened when I had found out Marcus Gunner's secret. When I found out that my lover was just spoon-feeding me lies, that Marcus Gunner did not really love me as he claimed to.

"Hey love," I greeted, smiling broadly up at Marcus. It was fixed, but I was a great actress. He would believe my calm facade.

"Hey midear." His smile was sincere and he sat across from me.

"Here, have some juice." I handed him a goblet I had filled earlier. I had also spiked Veritaserum in it before he came, to learn where he was last night. He promised to meet me, to have us to go out for a night on our own, a night with just us.

He looked at me suspiciously. "You already filled it up?"

"What? I can't be nice?" I kept out the exasperation in my voice, filling in the empty emotionless gaps with playful sarcasm. He smiled and took a swig of the pumpkin juice.

Sirius glanced sideways at my face, looking eager. James bent over his eggs, toast and bacon to hide his grin. Even Remus had resumed reading, holding it up to his face to hide the wave of giggles erupting him.

"Where were you last night?" I asked, my voice full of authority and seriousness. My face, I felt, was blank and oddly cold and to the point.

"Shagging Sage."

James, who was taking a drink of orange juice, choked. Sirius let out a loud, angry growl, shaking with fury. Peter merely looked shocked. Remus' book fell out of his hands, tipping his bowl of porridge into

the air and having it land with a crash between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables. And me?

My heart died.

I opened my mouth to give back the witty retort I always had. But instead I was gasping for air. I was close to crying. But not here. Not now. Not in front of everyone. I promptly snatched my bag and raced out of the hall. The minute I stepped out of the Great Hall, I broke down into tears.

I felt so bad after that happened. He was shagging my twin sister. My sister, Sage Colten. Sage was the worst person ever to walk in England. How could he fall for her? Sage and I were identical, but she had green eyes. I had brown. She was in Slytherin. Sage lived with her father, Mr. Colten, who was a high Ministry official. No one knew whether it was Sage or if it was me who lived with their blood father, but I'm glad I was raised with Joseph Rennis. Joseph Rennis was my father.

Due to the fact that I was raised with four brothers, two older and two younger, I was rowdy. My mother never approved and favored Sage above me. I loved Quidditch and Muggle football and being a tomboy. Sage liked reading Witch Weekly, getting make-overs, using all the money in her family's Gringotts vault and being a girly priss. She was spoiled, partially because her dad was paid a lot and partially because she was an only child. I had four siblings and my dad worked as a low-ranked Ministry person. I don't even remember what he does. All I knew was that he was paid very little. We had enough but a small bit short of scraping by. And all the money he made went directly for the mortgage of the house. This meant summer jobs. We earned the money we had to get anything for ourselves. This included school things. I was proud of that. What would happen to Sage when she got out of school and her hellish father died and she had no money for anything? She was so spoiled that she didn't know the definition of the word "work." She was a piteous excuse for a human being.

Just then, an owl swooped down and landed gently onto my shoulder. I took a thick roll of parchment from its leg and, when I had opened it, found a long letter from the Marauders. It had to be at least three pages long. Some parts were written in Remus' handwriting, or sometimes James', maybe Peter's at times and Sirius had little smart-ass responses next to what the others had said. I only read the first piece of parchment, though. On the end of the third page, I scrawled one word: thanks. Then I signed, near the thank-you, in my neat cursive. Freidah.